Beauty From Pain
by VampwithAttitude
Summary: When Loki forcefully claims Tony as his Omega, his life steadily gets worse. In perfect accordance to any Bonding laws, Loki is completely in his right to keep Tony and all his possessions, which makes a 'rescue' a criminal offense. But despite Loki's cruel attempts at degrading him, Tony sees past it all and tries to save Loki from himself. Falling for him along the way. Loki/Tony
1. Chapter 1

If anyone ever asked, he probably wouldn't even be able to give a suitable answer as to how he always seemed to end up in situations like these. Situations where it was always him getting hurt.

Born an Omega; raised to be careful and smart, and to not let himself get into vulnerable positions, he'd taken all the necessary precautions since puberty to try to keep anyone from claiming his body. Well. His body, plus the bonus of taking everything that belonged to him. Which was probably what had lured all those suitors to his 18th social party, and was definitely why each and every one of them had been verbally torn to pieces by his dad, and kicked out.

He'd been a little too mortified at the time to even pay attention to how his father acted when it came to his Omega issues.

But after growing older and more mature, he'd been "allowed" to be told all the secrets his parents had kept from him and, after their death, he'd read his father's journal and had discovered that his grandfather had been an Omega himself. And any problems he'd had being one had been relayed to his son. To Howard.

His dad had been taught, from childhood and onward, to treat Omegas with the respect Breeders deserved. And to always do so. Especially if his own child was born one.

So he'd learnt that day, at the funeral, that all those times Howard had protected him, had ridiculed suitors he didn't think worthy of his son, and had comforted Tony through his heats, had all been because of his grandfather's own issues.

Which was nice, in a way, he supposed. To know that the only time his father had ever really acted fatherly toward him, had been because of his own father's drilling lectures. That being an Omega had let him have just that little bit of love from the old man.

He'd listened too. He'd listened to all the advice Howard had given him, along with the hints his Omega-mother had given him throughout puberty. Things like: hiding your scent when you thought you were coming near to your heat, and like never letting an aggressive-looking Alpha know you were an Omega; whether they were male or female.

He'd taken the 'suppressors' since his first heat, just a week after his birthday, to balance out his out-of-control hormones and when he'd gotten older he'd invented his own brand and had expanded the research to create the 'suppressant' drugs, which was basically the same thing, except mixed in with the LH reducers were drugs he'd taken from anything he knew that caused drowsiness.

Making it have the nice soft feeling that made it all seem like a dream. He always took them hours before his heat even started.

And he'd never ever forgotten to take them once, and that claim still stood true because in this situation he hadn't forgotten them. He hadn't.

He'd actually been in the middle of taking them, a little later than he really should have been, when they'd been snatched from his hands and thrown down the gutter. He remembered, past the haze of it all, seeing the white glow of them disappearing in the dark whist he'd just swayed at the strength of his attacker's blow. He also remembered being hauled onto someone's shoulder and carried, fireman style, down the street. Oh, and he'd been drunk.

Drunk and taking tablets, what an idiot. But, yeah, there's how he ended up like this, in one of those situations where he knew he was going to get hurt. Pressed down into linen sheets with his shirt ripped, his skin burning and his hair sticking to his face with sweat.

Yeah. He was in heat. And yes, he didn't want whatever this alpha was doing. At all. Heat or not heat, he wanted out and he wanted sleep.

But moaning in protest during heat was usually something that only incited an alpha. He'd been taught that. He knew that. And he'd still done it anyway.

He'd done everything that he shouldn't. And it was only the one mistake that was what usually costs everything. Just the one.

He'd known that too.

Tony hissed at the hands on his back, batting his own in a feeble attempt to get away. His skin was burning, and whether or not the attention was unwanted, the cool hands skimming over it still felt invitingly good. He felt dizzy and sickeningly disorientated, shivering even though he was clearly burning a heat-induced fever, and he couldn't see anything properly let alone think about what was happening.

Heat was, put simply, the Omega version of having an uncontrollable sex drive, a cycle occurring every other 4 months and the emotions, sexual need and brain fog were the common symptoms.

And maybe even a little pain in the stomach and/or chest, if you weren't properly taken care of by an Alpha.

But Tony had never had that problem before because he'd never had an Alpha before...

And he'd sworn to himself that he would never have one. Because he'd learnt over his life that he was pretty bad at knowing people's inner agendas, and he couldn't trust himself to ever really know whether or not he could trust someone else with his body. Whether he could trust them to not betray him.

And that thought alone was enough to make him start pushing back against those hands again, no matter how much his body craved their touch. And there wasn't just the trust issues he was dealing with here, either.

He owned a company half the world wanted to get their hands on, and he owned a face and body the other half lusted after.

Being ambushed the first day of a heat cycle by an Alpha, particularly one he knew wanted his company, was one of the first things his father had warned him about.

And being taken mid-first-day-of-heat by an Alpha, and especially an Alpha that was giving off his own pheromones as well, usually meant that the sex would end up in an irreversible bond.

- He grimaced against the kisses being pressed to his neck -

Well. They were reversible, but only if both parties were willing to separate. And he had a strong feeling, that with this Alpha, this would really not be the case...

His attacker - who he remembered being introduced to him as 'Dimitri Harrod' when he'd been around 21 - grunted when Tony pulled away from him. He was tugging on his trousers and through the blurred haze of his heat, Tony was still attempting to struggle. If he was going down, he was going down with a fight.

"No-" He didn't sound too weak yet, but his voice was croaky and his breath hitched when he said it. But still, it was a very clear and very intentional 'no'.

And of course, any "respecting-businessman" would ignore an Omega's refusal, because he was just saying 'no' for fun. Tony tried to stamp on Harrod's foot, but frustratingly, he missed. "Get off-me-"

Harrod held tight to the one arm he had in his grip, pinning it behind Tony's back to make him squirm against the wall.

"Why should I...?" He murmured into Tony's ear, making him recoil away from him. Harrod skimmed his ugly, manicured hands over Tony's skin, just to feel him writhe, and his nails lightly scratched his hips. Tony's teeth ground together. The fucking little creep. Touching him like he was his-

Tony's head was pulled back by a grip in his hair and, vaguely, he noticed that he'd been brought to a child's room. If the posters around the wall and the nightlight were anything to go by. God...He turned his face away from Harrod's foul selling breath, and shut his eyes. He really fucking hoped that the asshole wasn't married or something and he really, really hoped that this wasn't his fucking kid's room.

His hair was pulled even more and he took the hint, opening his eyes to stare at Harrod's chin. "If you want me to stop, then why are you hard?" You know why you bastard. "I can already feel you burning for me." He whispered to him, darting his tongue out to wipe a tear in the corner of Tony's eye away. He let Tony's head go before he could spit in his face, and he fell forward, his face bouncing on the mattress.

Harrod rolled his hips behind Tony's, holding him tight with one hand, and keeping him pinned with his chest and his weight, grinding into him.

His jeans, though unbuttoned to let his cock out, chafed against Tony's now increasingly sensitive skin and he bucked again; trying desperately to get away.

"No." He ground out in answer to his statement, his voice getting stronger in his anger. "You can't just ta-" He whimpered when his ass was kneaded with a firm hand.

Harrod licked a line down Tony's shoulder, humming under his breath. "Can't what...?" He asked slowly, not bothering to hide his amusement. He remembered him more clearly now. His dad had embarrassed his family when he'd asked to claim Tony. In front of social elites. Perfect. Something his dad had done was coming to, literally, bite him in the ass. Harrod bit down on the skin beneath his mouth and Tony muffled a shout, knocking his shoulders back to shake him off.

He kicked out, hating himself for still trying to arch toward the sound of Harrod's hand pumping at his own length.

"Yes," He bit out, still answering Harrod's early statement. "You can feel me burning-" He cut off, his voice cracking.

It hurt to speak, the words rubbing in his throat and making it itch from the inside. He swallowed. "I-I'm burning. …. But it's not for you." Harrod chuckled softly behind him, released his shoulder. And Tony took that opportunity to lift his free arm and bring his elbow up, swinging it around to knock back into Harrod's face. "Never for fuck-ups like you!"

The bastard recoiled with a shout, his hands flying to his nose, but when Tony tried to wriggle out from under him, he fisted them in Tony's hair to keep him in place.

Keeping a harsh grip on his head, Harrod pressed him down into the pillow, holding him there and making him scream into the material when he couldn't breathe.

Tony thrashed, trying to get in air, to get away from all of this, panicking, screaming and shouting obscenities into the bed.

He was pulled up just enough to take in a gulping breath of oxygen, before Harrod practically covered his lips whole with his own, swallowing his choked off cry when he began to push into him; without so much as a warning.

"I was planning on preparing you." Harrod grunted, finally releasing his head to let him breathe, and Tony rocked forward at his first thrust, hitting the headboard before him with a hard crack.

"You know, it being your first time and all..." Harrod continued to drawl as Tony recoiled beneath him.

He shouldn't know that, he shouldn't know that. No, wait. It was public knowledge wasn't it? Everyone knew that Tony had never been with an Alpha, didn't they? Tabloids spoke about it constantly. At least he thought so, he couldn't - he keened when Harrod brushed against his prostate, his lips shaking uncontrollably - He couldn't think clearly, he was, this was -

"I was trying to be nice." Harrod growled in his ear, biting down on it when he received only a high-pitched moan in reply. Tony couldn't even get enough air in his lungs to answer, gasping at each thrust, and his head was growing light the more he hyperventilated.

"But I guess you didn't want things like that. You wanted it rough."

Tony couldn't help but let out a sob, digging his fingers into the sheets until the knuckles were white. He kicked out again but his legs were pinned now and before he could even think of trying to punch Harrod, his arms were grabbed and were held down by his head, and it was only the shaking after each thrust that actually let him move.

"How does it - ngh - feel...? Huh, Stark?" Harrod's grunts were growing shallow and Tony squeezed his eyes shut in response to what that meant. Relief that it was almost over but knowing what it meant if Harrod deposited himself in him, turned it into something cold.

He'd be claiming him. Completely. Body and possessions. And there was no Omega-right Act or any law that would even say that, what he'd done was wrong...He was completely in his right. And there was no doubt that this was revenge, served cold after all these years. Tony felt sick.

"How'd's it feel, then?" Harrod continued, his usual eloquence now non-existent. "To know that after this. …. Everything you are. Everything." He thrust in harder and Tony's hands tightened their grip on the sheets as he cried out. "It'll all belong to me."

Harrod panted, practically seeping in glee. "Your famous little suits, your billionaire company, your family mansion..." He pushed in straight to the hilt, and lay over Tony's back, rolling his hips to keep a pace. "And, of course, you."

He leaned down and bit Tony's shoulder again, smiling over the mark at Tony's shriek. "So tell me then. How does it feel, to know I'll be the one fulfilling my father's wishes, by getting your company, and that you'll fail in fulfilling your own daddy's hopes...because you'll be sorting my clothes and making my dinner Stark. Not dealing with company details or anything actually - God, so tight - important anymore."

Tony didn't answer, turning his face away and shaking. He didn't answer. But he didn't have to. Because someone else was in the room and someone else spoke first.

"I imagine," Harrod paused, looking up and Tony went rigid beneath him. "That he would be feeling some loathing." Tony's eyes snapped open, his muscles tightening as Harrod stopped completely, still buried in him, to face the intruder. "Loathing for you." They continued, obviously feeling the need to elaborate.

Tony could feel himself grow cold, and the shaking in his arms only increased at the intrusion. He closed his eyes. Please. Pleasepleaseplease. Not him.

He could still hear Steve's parting warning, before he'd left for the fund-raiser, his warning to be careful around alcohol and other Alphas. It echoed in his mind and he couldn't help but pray that he would come and find him.

Come and rescue him. And tell him that he was such an idiotic dick-head for ignoring that stupid warning.

When he opened his eyes, Loki hadn't moved and it was Loki. It was him, it was fucking him! Tony's heart pounded at an alarming rate when he focused on just how vulnerable he was right now. And in what position he was laying in!

He tried to crawl away from them both, to hide away until it all blew over, it was a dream. A stupid nightmare. But Harrod was already inching out of him bit by bit and he couldn't move without a stab of pain rippling through his spine. He hissed under his breath, the friction making him wince even when his body continued to burn; aching for more.

Loki looked on, his face as blank as it had been when he'd left for Asgard. Left. He shouldn't be here. He should be in Asgard. And away from Tony.

"My claim has nothing to do with you." Harrod spat at him, and Loki smirked in response but said nothing. "And who the hell are you anyway-?"

"No, it does not have anything to do with me." Loki interrupted, and agreed with, him. "But," His smirk grew into something vicious. "Unfortunately, for you, your claim has the ability to interfere with my future plans."

Harrod faced Loki now, his jeans scratching Tony's thighs as he twisted around, and there was a look of absolute disdain on his face. Something he'd obviously learnt from his father, if Tony's memory served him correctly. "And you think that gives you the right to break in and-?!"

The room glowed a bright green and it was the only warning given to either of them before Harrod went blasting backward into the wall. Tony gasped in pain, Harrod still having been buried halfway inside him, and he curled into himself when he was approached. Behind him Harrod groaned on the floor and, without even sparing him a glance, Loki kicked his head hard.

Tony froze, the sound of Harrod's skull cracking drowned out by the rushing in his ears, and his fingers uncurled from around the sheets when Loki casually sat on the bed beside him. He was still in heat, still wound and wired, and fighting would involve skin contact. A big, no-no-don't-that's-a-bad-idea, right now.

He almost did slide closer though, his body still telling him to try and get something inside him, but he stopped himself just in time. No matter how far gone he was in this, there was no way he was showing it, or letting Loki get his filthy hands on him.

"You're supposed," He coughed, his throat raw from shouting. "To be in Asgard." He rolled his shoulders as Loki watched him curiously, bracing his muscles to push himself back, should Loki reach for him.

"Am I?" Loki's tone was light and, before Tony could react, he placed a cool hand on his naked thigh. Tony hissed and arched toward him. "Then I suppose this must be a awful nightmare of yours."

He sighed, mockingly in regret, and unhooked the leather straps of his armor, pulling it off as though it was completely fucking normal to just strip in front of your enemy.

Tony stiffened, still aching from Harrod's penetration, and his eyes widened as Loki's chest came into view, ignoring how his heart thudded in anticipation. "No." His chest tightened in fear and he panicked, shuffling back until the pain between his legs took his breath away. "No, no not you-Not you!" He lunged back, trying to roll off the bed without actually touching Loki but a casual backhand struck him back against the mattress and the blow added to his dizziness. His eyes blurred, and his heart beat fast in his throat.

He was still too out of it. This was bad, this was so bad. He couldn't think, he wanted, he was-

Loki shifted, every movement slow and methodical, like he wasn't about to rape Tony. Like he wasn't about to take what was only in Tony's right to give.

This didn't make any sense! "Why do you want m-" Tony started, his teeth chattering, and he willed his erection to wilt, but his body was at it's end. He hadn't been able to fight against Harrod, an average mortal guy, and without his suit, in heat and naked, he was nothing against someone like Loki.

"That is my business." Loki said curtly, now completely naked. Tony kept his gaze pinned to his face, seeking out any actual regret or feeling. Anything he could use to make him stop.

"Please." He shivered when Loki leaned over him, and he knew, even without glancing down to check, the god was clearly hard. He was giving off all the right pheromones, enticing Tony's body. "Don't-look, I-what would this even do for you...?"

Loki... he smiled …. down at him, and shook his head, pressing further into him. He reached for his legs, still moving slow, but Tony curled into himself. Holding his legs away from him, not letting him touch him.

This made no sense. Why would Loki want to claim him? Harrod he could understand. He'd wanted him since his 18th and his father had been after the company for years. But Loki... He couldn't, for the life of him, think of any reason why. But, then again, he couldn't really think of anything coherent right now anyway, but-

His breath hitched when Loki's expression darkened at his withdrawal, trying not to let it affect the submissive side of him. "Claiming-claiming me won't give you any advan-" Loki grabbed his legs, holding them apart by the ankles, and used his grip to yank him down the bed. Tony's head knocked down against the mattress, and he bit his tongue, almost screaming at the touch. The nightlight fell to the floor, shattering, and when Tony looked in it's direction he saw, with a brief flutter of fear, the body of a dead dog in the corner. That made it pretty clear that this wasn't a kid's room. It was just an empty room Harrod had found, or maybe hired if this had been planned, and with the nightlight now fizzled out, they were both shrouded in complete darkness.

"I have no intention of explaining myself to you." Loki answered, his voice low, deep, and so close to Tony's ear. "All you need know is that I came here with the explicit intention of claiming you and, now that you are already overcome and weakened in your heat, I can and will." Like his hands, Loki's voice was ice cold. Detached. There was no pleading with someone like him. "The other mortal taking you, did nothing but make this easier for me."

Tony shook his head, shaking uncontrollably. Loki's cool skin felt like knives against his flushed chest.

"Thor-Thor'll kill you, if you-"

He tried to threaten, but-

"Do you really expect me to care what Thor will do?" Loki scoffed, sounding a little breathless. It didn't take a genius to guess what he was doing. "And if I did, Thor will not be able to do anything anyhow. Not without disrupting your laws. And certainly not after I've claimed you." Tony began pulling himself away again, but Loki's hands cupped his face, keeping him still. He almost choked on his own bile, when Loki's lying mouth covered his. "I am well within my rights." He murmured over Tony's lips. "In the laws of your world, and in my own."

Tony pressed his legs back together when Loki separated them but a blow to his knee knocked a cry out of him and rolled him onto his side. He separated them himself then; if only to stop Loki from hitting him again. He couldn't even see properly now, thanks to that punch, and he let his tears run. No one could see him. It was dark. He didn't care.

"Not if it's rape." He countered, quietly, and the lie was so obvious, he winced at it himself. "You won't be in the right then."

He felt Loki's lips against his throat, felt him smile as he kissed his adams apple. "If even you can sense just how unconvincing you are, then I do not really think it necessary I comment on that lie." Tony almost yelled at him that he just had, but he swallowed his own tongue when he felt Loki's fingers by his entrance.

"I-" He tried for one more plea, a beg even, just something to stop him, but his mind went utterly blank when, after seeing that he was still wet and pre-lubed from heat, Loki pushed into him like he was in a rush to get to the end.

He rose off his back, his shoulders rolled to keep him down, as Loki thrust into him even further. Burying himself inside. His wrists were grabbed when he weakly tried to push Loki off, and they were pinned down on either side of him. He turned his head to hide face against his arm. Smothering any sounds he made.

As Loki pulled out to thrust in again, he shook at the force, his thighs braced over Loki's hips and at the feeling of the other man's skin against him, he whimpered behind his teeth. This was Loki - his eyes slid shut - and this was so wrong, and so unbelievably unfair. It was his first time with an Alpha in heat, and both Harrod and Loki had taken unforgivable advantage of that, and he couldn't even think straight to understand what all this meant. What it could all mean.

All he knew was that Loki wasn't going to last long, and when he came, inside him, Tony would no longer be a free person. He would be a possession. A trophy. A thing.

Harrod had wanted a housewife, someone to fuck when he was in the mood, and someone to take care of his things when he wasn't; all while he stole Tony's company from him bit by bit.

But Loki... He was a God. An alien that had been treated like royalty all his life. He wouldn't want that - Tony bit his own skin to muffle his sobs - It was easier thinking about explanations, easier ignoring what was happening. This night was a dream, a prank of Clint's. He was fine. He was perfectly fine. He was still a backdoor virgin, he was still unclaimed, and he was in no way being threatened with his own freedom-

A particular thrust of Loki's knocked his head back and his teeth released the skin they were locked on. He was bleeding. Somewhere. He could feel it.

Loki wouldn't want a housewife. Loki would probably want a slave. Or - maybe... just an unwilling body to release himself into. Sadist bastard that he was.

Maybe that was it - Loki bit Tony's lip, licking into his mouth and over his tongue - Maybe that was what he wanted. To humiliate the Avengers. And what better to do that than turning the only Omega out of them all, into his own personal sex slave. No wait. That wasn't exactly a Loki thing to do. Or was it? It could, essentially, work...

And, in accordance to law and their bond, there'd be nothing his team could do about it.

He'd be Loki's, and they'd know that. The World would know that, because since when had his life been a secret. They would all know everything, they'd know how he'd become bonded in the first place. It was common sense. And they would think - Loki's hand wrapped around his throat, squeezing just a little, and he thrusted into him harder - they'd think he'd wanted it maybe.

The particularly nasty tabloids would print stuff like that for sure, he was used to that, but this was different. This time, he'd care about it, he'd care that people would believe it...

Pepper might believe it. He was always so careful. She knew that. She knew that this was the one and only thing he was overly careful about, so the only other conclusion would be that he'd asked for it. She would believe it. They all might.

No one would come for him.

And even if they didn't believe it, if they knew Tony and trusted him like he did them, they wouldn't be able to do anything anyway. It was the law. Loki had been correct before; he was completely in his right to do this.

It was the sick Alpha's that made the laws, who were to blame for things like this happening to Omegas. Tony hadn't ever really paid attention to any of the Omega-right debates, he'd never thought it would affect him.

He choked back a hysteric laugh, because hey, it was fucking affecting him now.

Loki grunted above him, turning Tony's face toward his and, even in the dark, he could see the maniacs smile. Tony tried to turn his face away, but he was held in place for another kiss, and he sunk his teeth into Loki's bottom lip.

It was the law. He'd have no rights.

Loki knocked his head to one side in punishment and Tony stayed that way, moving only when he was pushed at the force of Loki's thrusts.

The god may be a prisoner but Thor had said before that he'd dealt his punishment for what he'd done. He hadn't said what, but had told them Loki had been given rules. And one of them was to not come to Earth without his brother, but he was here now. Thor must know.

He hoped he didn't. He hoped Loki had broken a rule. Then he could be punished and taken away and kept away and never allowed to set foot on Earth or near Tony ever again.

But-

But if they bonded-

When they bonded, his little rule-breaking would be over-looked anyway. Tony's rape would be overlooked. He's just a mortal. Why would they care. And there was no way Loki could come to Earth with Thor anyway, so it was known he was here. This was all known.

Someone was probably watching. Watching and doing nothing.

It was the law.

Loki's breath quickened. Tony's mind shut down. He paused inside him, twitching inside him, and depositing himself inside him.

Tony froze, his heart rate slowing even though his own erection still called for attention, and he didn't make a single sound when Loki pulled out.

He lay there, in the middle of the bed, with his legs still spread wide and he said nothing at all.

He stared up at the ceiling, his mouth shut but his jaw unclenched, and he ignored the sickening feeling of the semen on his body cooling against his skin.

Loki sat back on his heels, and through the dark he could sense his eyes on him. Slowly, aching everywhere, Tony pulled his legs together and toward his chest. He tried to sit up but his head was spinning and he was pretty sure he was close to throwing up.

"I think it best you sleep now." Loki murmured, his voice a little huskier than Tony remembered. He began to protest, wincing as he shuffled backward on the bed, but Loki just followed him and laid a hand on his chest; just below the arc reactor.

When he moved it, Tony was already asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

Tony woke, laying sprawled on his stomach, with a splitting headache. Groaning sent him reeling at the echo of it in his ears and he covered them with his hands; squeezing his eyes shut.

A hangover, then. Well, he was pretty used to that. That didn't matter.

After his usual recovery time of around ten minutes, he opened his eyes, wincing at the sunlight seeping into the room, and blindly reached for his blanket.

His hands brushed against something that felt like fur, but he ignored it in favor of grabbing the nearest duvet.

He hauled it over his head, burrowing into the mattress to find some more sleep and to recover from his drinking last night, or whenever it'd been since he'd last drunk. Which was when, he noticed a couple of things all at once.

The mattress was different. It smelt old, colder than his heated cotton, and the blanket he was laying beneath was made of silk.

Silk.

He blinked, squinting up at it. Slowly, he uncurled his hands from around it and pulled it down over his body. His head was still pounding and sending spikes of pain behind his eyes, but looking down at the bed distracted him from that easily.

It was huge. Literally, huge. There was a canopy on it's left side, draped like it would probably be for a freaking aristocrat in Georgian times, and it even had it's own little roof, possibly held up by the four, long wooden posts at it's corners.

He gaped at it, and leant back into the bed. For some reason, he had a feeling this was bad.

He started when something brushed the back of his neck and twisted around to look behind at whatever it was.

The pillows he was leaning on, were made of cloth and fur, and the blanket he was beneath had an outer layer of thin silk, though it was bulging from the excess of something - soft - inside. His jaw unclenched and he pursed his lips.

This - Was not his bed.

Tony pulled his legs in, bending the knees until they were against his chest as he sat up. And-

Oh God. He was naked. He was naked in someone else's bed.

Okay: he chewed on the inside of his cheek. Okay, fine. He'd done this before. This was fine, it was cool. All good.

Sliding out of the bed, he didn't notice the gap between the bed and the floor until too late, and his legs buckled at his ill-timed landing.

He almost toppled over but he twisted in time, and just managed to fall against the bed, instead of thumping to the floor, and alerting whoever had taken him, to his now roused state.

Panting into the mattress, he grimaced at the cramping in his stomach and the dull ache in his arms. Sweat coated his back and thighs and he could feel himself shivering. That meant something - important, didn't it?

He moaned when his intestines decided to twist inside him, and remembered then that he was still in heat. With a sigh, he slid down from the bed to kneel on the floor. He hated being in heat. That's why he had his tablets.

He couldn't do this for four more days, and he absolutely despised all the commercials that told him he could. Because he really couldn't. At least, not without medication.

He needed his suppressants. Now.

He needed his drugs, and he needed his sleep and he really needed his Pepper to comfort him when it got too bad. He'd had tablets, hadn't he? He definitely remembered taking them to the fund raiser... He paused, thinking. Yep. He'd had some with him.

Fumbling around for his pockets, his hands patted bare skin, and he remembered that he was naked. And being naked, meant having no pockets, and that meant no drugs.

"Fuck."

So he was naked, and he was without his drugs and in his second cycle of heat.

The little cry of panic that threatened to push out of his mouth was swallowed back before it could come out, but he still felt the need to scream, and began to stare around the room with a newfound sense of panic.

Where the hell was he anyway?! And who the fuck had taken his drugs from him?

Shakily, he got to his feet, using the mattress to support his legs until they finally realized that, yes, he needed to stand on them and it would be helpful if his knees unlocked.

The rest of the room - as far as he could tell, when he looked around it - was empty; besides the bed of course, and a small cupboard in the corner which, after rifling through the boxes that were inside it, contained a pair of denim shorts that he slipped on.

He couldn't find a shirt in any of them, or any shoes, and the shorts barely covered his thighs, but it was better than nothing at all. And if he was stealing, then who cared. He was, technically, kidnapped right now. He could take what he wanted-

I think it best you sleep now.

Tony stumbled when standing, and he automatically reached for the door to steady himself, but he missed, and latched onto a box instead. And, naturally, it fell from under his weight and he fell with it, right into the middle of the rest of them.

The noise he made falling, made him wince horribly, nearly freezing in panic, but he shook himself free and struggled to get off of them; his limbs uncoordinated and clumsy.

The panic in his chest expanded as he backed away, and he jerked his head at his own stupidity. This wasn't the first time he'd woken up somewhere strange. Why the hell was he acting so, so ridiculously jumpy?

Forcing himself to calm down, he clenched his fists tight, and began to breath in, nice and slow...

There was no one here. The room was empty, and most likely, the house he was in, was too.

He was fine. Absolutely fine. The reactor was still in his chest and unharmed, and he was no longer naked and in a stranger's bed; he wasn't tied up, or in a cave, or laying on his sofa with his mentor standing over his paralyzed body like he was-

A light tinkle came from under the floor.

Well. The room under him. A room downstairs. He must be upstairs then, somewhere, unless there was a basement.

He swallowed, his mouth now dry, and he wet it with his own saliva. Another tinkle came and in the back of his mind, he recognised the sound as being two glasses tapping each other.

So. Someone was downstairs. Someone was here, and had been here, the whole time. They might have been listening, might have been waiting for him to wake up, or for-

Oh, who cared? This wasn't his house anyway and they were probably just an overdramatic drunk one-night-stand of his that had decided to take him home for the night. He'll just go downstairs, and leave. Simple.

Except. He was in heat. He was in his second cycle of heat which meant he'd had his first already. And, judging from the pain in his stomach and ass, someone had put something in him last night... He just didn't-

Oh, god.

Feeling dizzy and a little sick, he leant against the wall, still trying to breathe in as slow as possible. That wasn't possible. He hadn't bonded. He'd remember, if he'd been bonded. He'd know.

He was still feeling panicky and overwhelmed from his fall, but his body clearly knew something that he didn't, or couldn't, remember; and he was starting to hyperventilate and he didn't even know why.

He pressed a hand to his mouth when he heard, from downstairs again, the sound of a chair being scraped back. Jerking his own hand away, he shut his eyes for a brief moment and willed himself to calm down. This was nothing. Nothing. He'd literally been there and done that. He was fine.

There was the sound of a door closing and he figured that if he wanted to leave, then it was either now or never. Before his 'host' decided to go somewhere.

Pushing off of the wall, he flicked his eyes around the room until he found the door and he marched toward it, intent on walking out of the room, demanding to know where he was, and then leaving when his clothes were returned to him.

But, he barely even made it to the door, before he had to stop and check between his legs to see if he was bleeding. Because it felt way too uncomfortable, sticky and really sore to not be.

And, yep. Sure enough, after prodding at his thighs, he could see a visibly dark stain in the blue of the denim, and it made him feel a little queasy to look at. He sighed in exasperation, rolling his eyes.

There wasn't exactly a spare change of clothes around and he didn't have many options. Biting his lip, he eased his thighs apart, grimacing when the dried blood caught on his skin, and he walked a little more stiffly that before out of the door.

And it wasn't locked! Ha. He didn't even know when that'd become a worry of his, but apparently it had been, because all he could feel now was pure relief as he walked down the hallway outside.

An awful nightmare of yours.

The hallway, like the room, was completely empty. No cabinets or mirrors or tables with little photographs on them; which was what he'd expect from a house as huge as this.

Because it wasn't just the room that had been big. The hallway stretched down longer than the Stark mansion's one did. It was also really, really wide and he had to stick near to the walls as he walked, because there were no windows and no lights, and he had to squint at the dim surroundings to make sure he didn't walk into something.

There was a carpet here though and for his bare feet, it felt a lot nicer than the hardened wood from the room he'd woken up in.

He walked slowly, with no idea why he was taking his time, and his eyes skimmed over anything he could see around him; cautious all the while. He almost expected someone to jump out at him and he unconsciously quieted his breathing as he neared a set of stairs in the middle of the hallway.

The wood creaked when his hand grasped the bannister and he released it quickly, his heart thudding. There was a single thud from one of the rooms downstairs but nothing else afterward, and he risked a step down. Without touching the bannister this time.

Alarm bells were ringing in his head but he ignored them. He'd been in plenty of situations like this before, this was nothing. Why was that so hard for him to understand? This was just someone having gone too far, and he was going to let them know just how far they'd gone. With his fists if necessary.

The stairs were carpeted as well, the material a lot softer than the hallway's, and it was red; just like the fur pillows in the room. This was getting odder, and more worrying the more he thought about it. Best not to.

He looked past the bannister, through it's patterned gaps and entwined wooden figures, to see fanciful embroidery on the walls downstairs. He frowned, even more baffled than before, and that feeling only increased when he saw next a golden model of a coiled snake, sitting atop a table beside a set of double doors.

Whoever these people were, they were rich. And a lot more flamboyant with their housing accessories than Tony had ever liked to be. He hated statues.

Too many figurines meant too many repairs when experiments went wrong.

He padded down the last step, shivering when cool air from an open window blew over his still bare skin and there was another thud from within the room behind him. He spun around, facing the door leading to it and just, simply, froze. For about a minute.

Okay - He folded his arms across his chest, pressing his lips together firmly. Time to get whatever confrontation there'd be, over and done with.

He skimmed his hands over the handle, belatedly noticing that the door was made of mahogany, and suddenly found that he couldn't swallow past a choking lump in his throat. His eyes stung when he widened them but he couldn't but continue to do so. He also couldn't help the little gasp he let out in realization. Because, shit, there were-

There were bruises on his wrists.

Tony's chest tightened. There were bruises on his wrists.

He couldn't remember how to breathe, last night was still a blur in his mind, but that was really the only confirmation he needed.

There was bruises on his wrists. ... He-

Someone had held him down. Someone had used his wrists to hold him down. He felt sick. He felt dizzy and sick and even a little faint.

He was bleeding. There was blood on the shorts. His head hurt and his stomach ached. Symptoms. Symptoms that he knew off-by-heart.

Oh my God.

Oh my God.

He stumbled backward, his hand slipping off of the handle, and he still couldn't breathe. He couldn't think-

He was-

His skin was burning. God, he was still in heat. He needed-

He had no drugs, he had nothing. He'd woken up naked and in someone else's bed-!

There were fucking bruises on his wrists!

"Hel-"

His eyes flew up when the door opened with a snick and he found himself staring up at a face he'd never wanted to see again. Ever.

He took another step back, an full breath finally making it's way into his lungs, and he shook his head slowly. In sheer denial at all of this.

No.

No, no, no.

This wasn't happening. This was a nightmare-

Then, I suppose this must be an awful nightmare of yours.

Oh my God, no.

Loki smiled at him, a knife in one hand and a glass in the other. He leant his hip against the doorframe as he stared at him. Tony stared back. He stared and he backed away and his chest rose further with every breath than he thought it ever could. He needed to puke, and gag, but there was nothing in him. He could taste the bile in his throat. He-

Loki was fully dressed in his armor.

So, how come he got clothes? That didn't matter. None of this mattered. This was a dream.

Tony opened his mouth. To - he didn't know.

To shout and spit at him? To swear at Loki until he couldn't talk anymore? Until he explained everything he'd done, to Tony?

But nothing at all came out and he was left with an open mouth.

Not for fuck-ups like you!.

It was Loki, not him, who spoke first. His smile widened as he watched Tony's faltering and staggering, and his eyes were half-closed; amused and fierce. Everything Tony remembered seeing, back in his tower. Just before he'd been thrown through a window.

His hand came up to cover his arc reactor - protecting, shielding - and Loki took a step toward him.

"Your new home." He murmured to Tony, gesturing around him with the knife, and taking a sip of whatever that dark liquid was, that he was drinking.

Tony was still shaking his head. He didn't respond. He couldn't. He was too, genuinely and sickeningly, scared to say anything to him.

He was practically naked, barefoot and wearing only shorts, and he could feel his next cycle coming up. It was already seeping through his skin, making him hard and wet, and needy.

He could feel his brain muddling together and his palms sweating. Building the need he was now burning, for a body to thrust into him again.

Loki's eyes were glazed as he watched. He could sense it. He could smell it. Tony staggered backward.

No. Not him. Not again.

He was still bleeding. He could feel it between his thighs and he was shaking, trembling, and shuffling away.

Loki took another step forward.

"No." He whispered, before spinning around on his heels and turning his back on Loki. He sprinted back up the steps he'd just come down, running faster than he ever had before, and he didn't bother to look behind him to see if Loki was following him. What was the point?

He already knew that he was.


	3. Chapter 3

Tony ran into the first room he saw - which happened to be a bathroom, and everything in there was carpeted as well; including the toilet seat and lid.

He hesitated for a brief second, gaping at it all, before slamming the lid down and clambering over it, wincing at the spikes of pain between his legs and in his arms. Aching everywhere while his heat called for something to cut through it and with no tablets, he knew what the best option was.

But with the choice being either running and finding a random stranger or even just a dildo, or letting Loki Lord of bad-tempers-and-murdering-for-fun, he would probably choose escape and dildo.

No - there was no probably about it. He would choose that option. And escape was kind of vital with that, so he ignored the pain and rose onto his toes to pound his hands at the window above it.

The carpet was soft under his bare-feet, sticking up between his toes comfortably, and vaguely, he wondered if that were the point of it being there. But the sound of deliberately slow footsteps creaking up the stairs interrupted that thought before it'd even finished.

The window above the toilet was locked, sealed shut with some kind of weird paste, as was the door beside it that must have led to an adjacent room. Or a cupboard. Or closet. Or who gives a fuck because it won't open!

He slammed his palm against it, kicking just below the handle but it didn't even shake at his attack. Breaking the glass with nothing but his hands, would be of no use either and there was no way he was hiding in the bathtub. There was no way he was even hiding.

But he didn't have time to try and force his way through the door. He didn't have time to plan anything at all, and the sound of Loki's agonizingly slow steps - most likely set to that pace just to intimidate him - only bellied the panic bubbling in his throat.

He gave up on the bathroom, running - still running, no time to walk - out of it, and he snuck a look behind him to see Loki; just standing there. Leaning against the banister, and watching Tony lose his head and run around.

Asshole.

He almost confronted him, his hands twitching to just hurt the bastard, but he wasn't suicidal and plus: He was in heat. That wouldn't exactly be the best course of action, but the anger it ignited in him was good. Helpful even. It swallowed his fear quickly enough so he could at least think a little clearer.

Turning his back on Loki, he jiggled the handle of the door behind him. It was locked. And so was the one next to it, and the next, and the next, and: "Fucking hell, did you lock everything in this house?"

Loki's smile, still fixed on his face from before, was covered when he drank from the glass in his hand. "You were asleep." He said, slowly. "And I was," He paused, his lips pushed forward as he thought for the right word to use. "Bored." He settled on, the green in his eyes almost alluring and it made Tony feel sick to look at.

Tony stared at him, refusing to even look like he was considering taking a step back when Loki took one forward.

"And," Loki continued, his voice low and drawling, and as bored as he'd said he'd been. "I would really rather you stayed. At least until I can," His gaze drifted over Tony's body and Tony felt the sudden need to cover as much skin as possible; to wrap himself in a blanket and wish that he were home and in bed. But he didn't move. He would not move, not until the right moment. "Accustom myself to you." Loki took another sip, exaggerating the movement just so he could still look over Tony while Tony just continued to stare, breathing heavily through his nose while his mind scrambled against his heat to think and strategize. "Oh, and vise-versa, of course." Loki added, sounding faux-outraged at himself for forgetting. There was a drop of that dark liquid balancing on his bottom lip.

"Of course." Tony parroted bluntly. Loki's eyes met his and he held back a shiver, the Omega in him thrumming at the dominance in that gaze, but he held his chin up as defiantly as he knew he wasn't being, to repel that feeling and the urges it gave him. Showing Loki and even re-reminding himself, that he wasn't the type to submit. And that he never would be. "What do you want Loki?"

"What does anyone want, but-"

"Don't answer in riddles, please." Tony interrupted, "I can't stand it when egomaniacs monologue." Jesus Christ Anthony Stark, why can't you ever just shut the hell up? The glass tilted in Loki's hand in the silence that followed and Tony watched as he deliberately placed it on the flattened surface of the banister; taking the last three steps up as he did. The smile had gone.

"You do not speak over me." He said - no, ordered, Tony. "As it stands now, you belong to me. And you will listen to my voice when it is being used."

"Make me." If Tony had been presented with the gift of hindsight earlier in his life, he would never have said those words. Because the answer wasn't the angry statement that he usually would have expected from Loki, or another comment on how the god - essentially - owned him now, but it was another step forward and another blank face.

"Oh, I intend to." Tony let Loki take one more step toward him before diving to the side and running past him to leap onto the stairs. He skidded over the carpet, grabbing the banister with one hand and propelling himself down them. The glass was knocked over by his elbow and in the corner of his eye, he saw Loki catch it with one hand. Never breaking contact with Tony's eyes.

He half-slipped, half-ran down the stairs, the carpet soft and yielding under his bare feet and if it hadn't been for the banister keeping his balance he would have fallen. The arched door before the stairs, surrounded by carved symbols on whitened marble, had to be the front door. And therefore, his exit.

Toppling a tiny statuette of the devil purposefully over as he ran, Tony slammed his shoulder against the wood, and again when it didn't open, but when he hit it a third time he noticed the the same paste sizzling around the edges of the doorframe, just as the window upstairs had. So, like the window, it must be sealed shut.

But earlier today, he could have sworn he'd felt a breeze. He'd assumed it'd been an open window or door but-apparently not.

Fuck.

With a grunt of frustration, he turned to try and find another way out, but the air was pushed from his lungs when a force knocked him backward, and he gasped at the dizziness it stirred back into his head. His back hit the chest of a figurine, and her marble hands cupped his head as he panted beneath her; ironically protecting him from harm.

Like the statue, Loki's face was stone, from anger or desire Tony didn't know, but in response to seeing him stalk closer, Tony's eyes darted around the hall; his head still spinning and horribly disorientating him. There was a double set of doors either side of Loki, but he had no idea where they'd lead, or what was behind them, and one of them had that creepy snake model beside it which kind of ruled it out.

"The one on the left leads to a large drawing room," Loki answered, unasked. "Fit for entertaining guests, mostly." Tony looked at him, his hands automatically resting either side of him and he subtly began to feel around for anything that he could use to hit him with. Loki looked way too relaxed and easy with this and, despite it pissing him off, Tony could imagine him strolling around with his hands in his pockets; leering at him with a cigarette dangling from his mouth. "Not that you are likely to have any guests. What with, the doors being barred and my presence being a deterrent to any who dared to trespass."

Tony swallowed, pressing himself against the figurine behind him, and he bit back any comments he had about not intending to stay that long to see for himself. "And, what's on the right?" The dizziness from Loki's blow began to mix in with warming sickness of his building heat cycle, and the result gave him an emotionally-sounding shaky voice and slightly blurring eyes.

"The dungeon." Loki answered, smiling at Tony's sharp look. "For whenever you displease me." There was nothing Tony could find to hit him with, not even a dislodged stone that could at least cause some damage. Which was a downright shame. "In fact," Loki raised a hand and Tony felt a light tugging on his arm, pulling him forward unwillingly. He struggled against it, jerking his arm away, but all it did was tighten the hold. "Why not test it now? After all, since you've awoken all you have done is test my patience." He was teasing him. The asshole was freaking teasing him.

Tony yanked his arm back, letting out a hurried exhale when it succeeded in loosening the hold on him and he stumbled back two steps, his legs shaking as his heat cycle finally boiled to it's peak. Panic panic panic. "Do you think this is some kind of game, you sick-" Loki's hand was around his throat before he could even blink, and he let out a raspy gasp of surprise at the fingers pressing into him. He hadn't even seen him move, let alone-

The ground left his feet, the oxygen leaving his lungs, and he kicked out in defense, aiming for Loki's knees and thighs to knock his balance off, but he was losing air too quickly to be effective enough and God, he wanted to kill him.

His hands scrabbled over the steadily tightening grip on his throat, soft strangled whimpers spilling from his mouth in protest, and yet, somehow this only seemed to entice his heat even more.

His body quivered in turmoil, torn between listening to his brain or following through with what his heat was urging him to beg for, and it wasn't exactly helpful that he was this close to his-

Oh. Oh God.

His. His Alpha.

His.

They'd bonded.

They'd bonded. For real. They'd bonded for real and it was permanent. This was permanent and-and he'd-

Tony kicked out harder, more in self-disgust now for letting this happen to himself and for not fighting back hard enough before, but also in anger - anger like nothing he'd ever felt before - at Loki for taking the decision of his bond from him. It was like having a forcefully arranged marriage. Only, if he claimed Alpha abuse, no one would listen because he was an Omega and no one would care because he was Tony Stark. Tabloids would just write that he'd deserved it. Senators would agree.

Tony's kicks were way too easily dodged and he was just held at bay, with one hand, like some disobedient kid, which only infuriated him further until he was screaming at Loki, regardless of the lack of oxygen and his less-than-advantageous position.

When his hands found Loki's face and he dragged his nails down, scratching at the skin as hard as he could, Loki released him with a snarl and he slumped to the ground. Getting to his feet when he was red in the face and panting for breath was harder than it might have seemed and he barely made it to his knees when Loki pushed him back down onto his side.

He bucked, panic overwhelming him again, but he pushed it away, focusing on forcing his heat down to let him think. But it was at it's peak now, and he was already becoming sluggish and limp, though he still struggled against Loki when he bent over him. Loki's hands were everywhere, sliding over his bare skin, and he couldn't see anything but Loki. All he could see, smell, feel and even sense was just Loki.

The anger he'd felt from before slowly ebbed into arousal and he lost whatever small advantage in fighting back that he'd had. Turning his face away, he recoiled as Loki's cool breath fanned over his cheek, and he continued to struggle, not planning on giving up this time.

Because they may be bonded - fuck they were actually bonded, it hadn't been a dream - but he was not going to let-

Loki's hands found his legs and he used them to roll Tony over onto his back.

"No-" Tony's hand flailed, no coordination to them at all, and he lashed out at whatever of Loki's was in range. "You are not doing this to me again-!" A tongue licked a stripe down his neck and he choked on his own protests.

Loki hummed, his tongue warmer compared to the rest of his body and it pooled that same temperature down into Tony's stomach and groin. "Heat, surprisingly, makes you mortals weak." Loki murmured against his skin, his voice almost a growl and it vibrated Tony's every pore, warming him from the inside until he was shaking from the dominance of an alpha.

It was the heat, it was the fucking heat that did this to him. And he hated it. He'd always hated it, but now, now it was literally ruining his life. "I'd worried," Loki grunted when one of Tony's blows actually hit something. "That you would be a nuisance in all this." Loki's teeth scraped over his throat, making it tingle and burn.

God, this was happening so fast. Loki'd been trying to kill about a minute ago!

"But to have the power I hope to gain, I knew that I would need to have you," Tony let out a strangled cry when Loki pressed into him, hard, to emphasize his point. "Bound to me."

"Fuck you." Tony breathed, sure he'd never be able to breathe properly again. "Just fuck you."

"But, instead of a nuisance," Loki sounded a little breathless himself now, but for entirely different reasons. After all, he was totally fine with all this. "You are proving to be an interesting side-effect."

Tony panted beneath him, his eyes dilated and dark, as his mind scrambled to make sense of those words.

So Loki did want something then, something other than him. Tony was just the side-effect, the little prize won to entice the buyer until the rest of it came along. He wasn't even important in all this. He was just there, he was-

He was just a bit of fun.

He gagged when bile rose in his throat and he swallowed it back with a grimace, almost swallowing his tongue when his legs were separated.

But when he curled them back to break Loki's grip, the movement sent his entire back off of the ground and all it did was give Loki the boost he'd needed anyway, to place them up on his hips.

And all he was wearing were shorts. Jesus. Jesus. Not again.

Tony twisted, coiling his body like a snake, shimmying on the carpet just to try and get away from him. The carpet beneath him burned his skin; with Loki's grip iron on his legs, holding him still while he shuffled around, and he let out a garbled cry of undisguised humiliation when Loki became frustrated with his struggles and pinned his face down to the floor with his foot.

Now towering over him completely and holding one foot braced over Tony's left cheek, to keep his face down on the ground and to limit his struggles, Loki undressed himself with one hand, using the other other to tug Tony's shorts down. The angles were awkward and Tony still kept pushing him back, but Loki still won - he still managed it. He was still there. This was all still happening.

God, please.

The flare in Loki's eyes made it clear that he was mostly acting out of instinct as an Alpha, and with Tony now his Omega, this was what his biologic response would be toward one in heat. Pin them down and have your way with them.

It was Biology.

Science.

Everything Tony loved.

Loki began to stroke himself, slowly, still bent over him, and Tony's heat spiked in anticipation to encourage him, while his sane self flattened himself to the floor; with no room to struggle now but at least some distance to keep away.

His senses were overstimulated, an Alpha too close to him during heat, and his mind crashed at the overload, rebelling his most recent vow of 'not giving up this time'.

Pathetic.

That's what Howard would call him if he could see him now, and hell, if he could stand in the corner and watch himself squirm around on the floor like this, he'd call himself pathetic. It's what he was.

"You," Tony started, unaware he'd even spoken until he noticed the amused eyebrow Loki raised toward him. He tried to turn his face away but Loki's foot kept him pinned and he shut his eyes against the humiliation. He'd seen enough porn movies to recognize a situation like this, and knowing what everyone called the girls - or boys - in those movies just made the bad taste at the back of his throat swell.

He'd been called a whore before, but it'd been a joke. An affectionate joke.

Joke's over.

"You want my Company." He finished his sentence, his words now slurring as his heat rolled over him in full blast. Dizziness was only one of the symptoms Omega's suffered during heat but it had always been one of the ones Tony had, had more than others. And it was no different now.

"Perhaps." Loki grunted in answer, his hand squeezing over his own cock, balanced just over Tony's chest, and if it even touched the arc reactor, he swear he'd- "Perhaps not. There are other things in your name, Stark."

"So, so whatever you want, you need to go through me first." Loki didn't reply, and only shifted back, knocking one of Tony's legs back into place when it began to slide off of his hips. "You wanna-you wanna control the Avengers... Or SHEILD." He was panting now, his skin glittering with sweat, and, suddenly, he wished Clint were here. Steve made everything better, but Clint made everything funny. And he could really use a laugh right now. "It's-not going to work." He continued, warning Loki, but all he was met with was a blank face. "There're safeguards against that kinda thin'... Trust me. It won't work."

He moaned when Loki's hand cupped beneath his thighs, holding them further apart and in the air. His foot slipped further down Tony's face, the toes catching on his lips, until it was pressed against his throat and he gagged, lifting his head to push it away.

Loki leant forward, digging his toes into Tony's skin until tears pricked in his eyes and his face flushed at the blunt abuse. "As always, Stark. You talk far too much."


	4. Chapter 4

He moaned when Loki's hand cupped beneath his thighs, holding them further apart and in the air. His foot slipped further down Tony's face, the toes catching on his lips, until it was pressed against his throat and he gagged, lifting his head to push it away.

Loki leant forward, digging his toes into Tony's skin until tears pricked in his eyes and his face flushed at the blunt abuse. "As always, Stark. You talk far too much."

Talk too much? He'd barely said anything. He'd-

Loki's foot pressed down further into his throat, and he spluttered, choking and suffocating. Hie back lifted off of the carpet as he writhed over it for breath, struggling under Loki's hold and blinking against the pounding in his head. The rushing in his ears that drowned out the words Loki was snarling at him.

He shook his head, unable to comprehend anything Loki wanted him to do, and finally, thankfully, Loki slipped his foot off of him. Tony sucked in a breath, deep and harsh, and the tears that had welled in his eyes before slid down his face now. He didn't bother to stop them, choosing to continue to struggle instead. He pushed himself back over the floor, and planted his legs that were still in the air onto Loki's chest to try and shove him away.

Loki's hands tightened their hold on his thighs, but when Tony's foot kicked out, not at his chest but at his head, he released him with a glare and a shout. Tony's legs fell to the floor and, for a moment, the air was knocked from his lungs and he lay there; dazed and bleary eyed through his heat.

Then, when Loki's hands reached for him again, when fingers brushed between his legs, he sprang up, jumping to his feet in sudden movements that surprised even Loki. He slipped over the carpet, but managed to get out from under Loki and, stumbling upright, he ran for the door.

The one Loki had said led to a dungeon. Probably not the best idea right now, but who knew what was down there. If he made it somewhere dark, he could hide. Or at least, find something to use against Loki.

He collided with the door, however, when it refused to open and he barely managed to search for that weird paste before Loki's elbow drove into his back, sending him to his knees. The doors were opened then, possibly by magic, and he was literally lifted off of his feet by the back of his neck and thrown through them.

He landed on a sofa, in a dimly lit room, with stereotypical candles lined in a row on the shelves and walls.

"I thought ... thought this was a dungeon." Tony wheezed, his arms shaking as he struggled to get up off of the leather sofa. Loki's answer was a cutting smile and he watched Tony slide around for a while, not bothering to hide his amusement, before simply lifting him off of it himself. A table was in the middle of the room, and seemingly oblivious to the nails Tony was using to scratch his face with, he set him down on his back on the polished surface.

Tony's brain swam, encouraging the hands that ran all over him and his heat was driving him crazy. But, with him completely pliant now, Loki didn't even bother to make sure he wouldn't move or try to run again, when he turned to kick a chair out of the way.

With Loki now facing away, Tony rolled off of the table, and ran for the doors again. At least this time, they were open, he could see they were open. And they were just there-

His ankle was grabbed in an almost lazy hold and he was flung into the wall.

Loki bracketed him with his arms against it, pushing him back into the wood, and his breath was cold over Tony's lips. "Run again, Stark. And you will regret it."

"Get off me!" Loki backhanded him for a second time that day, sending his head cracking into the wall.

Tony sagged against him when his legs were lifted, both of them in a single strong hold, and Loki's muscles coiled almost mesmerizingly as he held him there. With just his hands and without even straining.

He was strong. Really strong and God Tony fucking hated him.

He Loathed him.

He never thought he'd hate anyone as much as he hated Loki, but now. Right now, when he was pressed up against a wall with more of those marble carvings looking down at him from the ceiling, watching with demon-like smiles on their faces, and with Loki's arms the only thing holding him up, all he could feel was a murderous desire to just hurt him.

To kill him even. To let the Hulk have his way with him for hours, while he just sat there and watched it all with a bucket of salty popcorn. And maybe - no, not maybe, he will - when the Hulk was done, he'd have a go at hurting him. And he would be slow. Very, very slow.

Loki would be weak then, weak from the Hulk, and it would be all too easy. He'd been tortured before, many times, and he knew how to go about it himself fine.

He'd make Loki beg for him to stop, make him ask for his mercy and swear that he'd never touch him again-

Loki shifted them both and pressed Tony further into the wall.

Loki lined himself against him, lifting Tony higher up the wall until he had no choice but to wrap his arms around the God's neck to stop his back from aching at the position.

"Don't-!" Tony didn't even realize he'd let that word out when Loki pushed in, until he noticed that his mouth was open, and the memory of his cry sent tingles down his tongue.

He was letting this happen to him again...

Loki held him there, held him pinned, unyielding and unmerciful, and each thrust of his sent Tony's head knocking against the wall. His blood thrummed at the friction, his biology betraying him, but his pride held him back.

He would not, he would never enjoy something like this. No matter what the Omega in him wanted. If his Grandfather could fight it back, then so could he.

Loki seemed to sense his inner conflict of desires because he smirked at him again, all anger from Tony's struggles already forgotten, and he claimed Tony's lips in a bruising kiss. Biting, sucking his lip, and grunting into his mouth.

Tony turned his face away to one side when he pulled back, grimacing at the line of saliva that slid down his chin, and he closed his eyes against Loki's thrusts and against the look in his eyes.

"I'm going to kill you ..." He murmured, wincing when Loki thrusted harder, each thrust burying himself in deeper inside Tony, until the slap of skin-on-skin echoed in the empty room. "I swear, I'll kill you."

"You haven't the power, Stark." Loki murmured back, licking a line down Tony's neck, and when his tongue skimmed over the reactor Tony jerked in his grasp. Struggling again, harder than before, until Loki slid one arm under his knees to keep him in the air and used his now-free hand to squeeze Tony's throat.

When he couldn't see anything but black spots and blurred outlines, Tony gave up but he left his nails dug into Loki's skin - knowing that they'd be uncomfortable at least - and Loki's hand loosened around him. It stayed there, however, wrapped around his neck, and Loki used it's hold to keep his head still as he quickened his thrusts.

Tony grit his teeth, his face burning and flushed from the lack of oxygen and the humiliation that he could still feel bubbling in his stomach. Unless that was his heat, which just made everything 100x worse.

His head was turned when Loki's thrusts slowed, and his lips were pressed into yet another kiss, but this time Loki held him there as he moaned into his mouth. And it was just as Loki pulled away, that he felt the wet, warmth of seamen inside him and on his thighs. And it was as Loki pulled away, that Tony realized that he'd come as well. He hid his face in his arm as he turned his face away again.

Loki pulled out out of him horribly slowly, releasing both of Tony's legs at the same time, so that Tony slumped to the floor when he moved back. He bent his legs slowly, bringing them in toward his chest, and he wrapped his arms around his knees. Staring at the ground. He ached everywhere, and the bruises from being thrown around were throbbing all over his body.

He'd be pretty colorful tomorrow morning, and at that thought, at the thought of there being a tomorrow morning in this place had Tony leaning forward, had his lips shaking, and had him retching all over the carpet.

Loki stepped back away from the vomit, and he waited until Tony was done before clearing the mess with a wave of his hand. Tony didn't look at him, didn't look away from his own legs, and bit his bottom lip hard.

Loki took a step toward him, and one of his boots - that he was still wearing - nudged the sole of one of Tony's feet. Tony jerked it away.

"Sleep." Loki ordered him, as calm as he always was. And when Tony finally did look up, he saw him casually - so fucking causally - walk out of the room. Just leaving Tony sitting there, naked, and shivering and filled with his cooling-

"Go to Hell." Tony spat after him, recoiling when Loki looked back over his shoulder at him to give him a strange look.

"Oh, I have already been, my dear." He said, baring his teeth in a terrifying version of a grin, before shutting the doors behind him.

And at the hollowed echo of a lock, Tony blinked at the answer before attempting to quickly stand and to go toward it. To scream through it about not just being left in here like some- like some kind of-

But his legs gave out from under him, buckling at the knees, before he could even get to his feet. And he fell, face-first, onto the carpet.

And somewhere, in the house, a clock chimed Two.

.

.

It was sunlight that woke Tony, and he turned his face away from it when it didn't seem to want to go away. It still seeped through his eyelids, however, and so with a groan he sat up, rubbing his eyes and glaring at the window.

Which was when he realized that it wasn't a window, and that the light was from a candle and not from the sun. Which meant that he wasn't at home which, in turn, meant that he was still here. In this house. Locked in the room that Loki had pushed him into and-

He darted his eyes toward the door, narrowing them when he could see that that white paste was now leaking through the cracks where it hadn't before. Which meant that the door was now been sealed shut instead of just being locked.

He slowly staggered to his feet, his limbs shaking, but he regained enough control to at least be able to walk, and when he finally reached the door he still felt stiff, yeah, but he could stand without falling to his knees. His stomach still cramped, but he was a while yet until his next heat cycle.

Thank God.

Pressing his palm against the door, he drew back a fist to punch at the wood, to try his luck at breaking enough of it from around the handle until it opened. He wasn't just going to sit here like the housewife Harrod had wanted. But before he could even swing a blow toward it, the doors opened themselves with a light click and he fell through the gap between them.

He only stumbled though, he didn't fall, and logic told him immediately that it could only be magic that could open the door - like Loki had done before - and his heart froze in his chest when logic caught up completely. He backed up, pressing himself against the wall, and waited. Waited for Loki to walk in, and to throw him around. To force him to the floor again.

But nothing happened.

He peered through the gap between the doors carefully, and sure enough, the hall was empty. The doors opposite were shut and no one was on the stairs or by the rails on the first floor. But still, he waited. He was not going through something like that again and he wasn't risking himself by just walking right into Loki.

When he didn't move out of the room completely, the doors began to shut on him and he jumped out of their way with a bitten off shout. Breathing heavily and faster than was healthy, he took another step toward it. It opened at a single touch from his hand.

What? "... what?" He stared at the doors. Why would Loki lock them in the first place if he allowed Tony to open them anyway?

Unless. Unless this was a test of some sort. Or something. He wouldn't put it past Loki to do something twisted and sadistic to him if he left the room. To suddenly become visible and tell him it was all a ruse to check if he'd obey to simple rules like; asking an Alpha for permission to leave a room ...

Tony backed up again, closing his eyes, and when the back of his legs hit the sofa, he let himself fall back onto it with a sigh. His legs still ached, and when he patted a hand between them, it came back spotted with red and white.

He wiped his hand on the sofa, cringing and holding back the bile in his throat, and when he looked up the first thing he saw was another statue. This one wasn't as weird as the ones on the ceiling and it was of a young boy and girl. They had a basket in each hand and the boy had half a loaf of bread in the other. It was life-like, and life-size, and he couldn't help but smile at it.

Hansel and Gretel.

Beside Gretel's head was a bronze box, half open already, and there was a handkerchief sticking out of the top. He reached for it, only easing himself off of the sofa when his hands barely brushed the cloth, and he used it to wipe at his face first, and then his legs, and then his ass.

Everything stung and throbbed at even the gentlest of touches, and when he was done he clenched his hand around the drenched cloth, and threw it at a wall. It landed on the marble head of a snake. An adder that almost seemed to be smiling at him.

He glared at it. A snake. A snake just like Loki was. Lying, sly and poisonous. He lifted a chair into his hands by it's leg and knocked it against the head. Two blows and it crumbled to the floor, leaving white dust to billow around it. He coughed when it blew into his face and turned away to throw the chair at the doors instead. They didn't open, and again, no one came to see what the noise was. To come and check if he was awake.

To come and hurt him again.

With a set scowl, he marched back toward it, ignoring any nervousness as he pushed against the handle. The doors creaked open yet again, and this time, he went through them and into the hall.

The front doors didn't open, of course they didn't, why would they?

Loki wasn't stupid and he definitely wasn't trusting. He'd given Tony no reason to want to stay here willingly so it was only logical that he'd sealed shut one of the only exits.

Still, Tony spent over an hour pounding at it with chairs, and with the broken snake head, and with his fists. He even used the candles to try and burn the paste away but nothing worked.

Why leave the other doors open? And why lock them before? Tony had remembered Loki locking the door as he left, just after ordering Tony to sleep, but it opened now.

Maybe Loki had wanted to do something without Tony barging in. Not that he would have, he would have stayed as far away from him as possible. But Loki had locked the door, and now, it seemed Loki wasn't even in the house. He'd gone somewhere, and Tony had no idea when he'd be back. And he'd regret it, if he spent the entire time just pondering on needless things and not trying to escape.

Tony frowned at the handles as he shoved his shoulders into the doors, hating that snakes were on almost everything. But then again, hadn't Thor called Loki a snake before? Maybe it was a nickname, or something. Or maybe, who cared?

It was creepy and that was what mattered. Actually, this whole house was creepy, and the sudden quiet after everything that had happened in it, was the creepiest thing about it. Nothing made a sound besides him, and besides the grandfather clock in the corner.

He kept jumping at shadows, half-expecting each statue around him to be Loki standing there and watching him.

He really needed to get out of here.

He had already attempted to smash the grandfather clock, to see if there was anything in there that he could use, and that he could tinker with to make something that could help him get out of here.

But, unfortunately, when Barton had been under Loki's control he must have apparently told him of Tony's genius mind. Because anything, every single thing that he could use, was either locked, sealed or not even in the house. He tried smashing glass, picking the inside of lamps, and overturning tables to break off the legs but nothing came off or broke.

It was like it was all of it made of something even stronger than it usually was. Magically bound to stop anyone from breaking or destroying it.

But the statues had broken easily enough, but that was probably because Tony couldn't really use them for anything. The snake head had bounced off of the window Tony had flung it at, without even leaving a scratch or a crack. And the hand he had broken off of Hansel had only succeeded in jamming itself in the door's handle instead of actually opening it.

When the grandfather clock chimed Five O'clock, Tony slid to his knees beside the doors. Exhausted and out of ideas, and terrified for what Loki would do when he returned. There was no way out that he could find, no phone or way of contacting the outside world. And other than the shorts, there were no clothes, and Loki had ripped the denim anyway so he was just left bare.

His stomach cramped at the last chime of the clock and he groaned, panic overwhelming him when he assumed it to be his heat, but when it growled he gave a sigh of relief. Exerting himself like that in heat. No wonder he was starving.

The doors opposite the so-called dungeon opened at a touch from his hand as well, and he carefully stepped inside, still half-convinced Loki had been here the entire time and that he would pounce on him the moment he entered. There was a bowl of fruit on the table in the middle of the room, but a single tap of his finger told him that they were made of metal.

Though an archway in the wall, he could smell bread, and his stomach growled again. He didn't care what there was, as long as there was food. The faster he ate, the more likely it was his heat would simmer down a little and that he could regain at least a little more strength.

He was even starting to get a headache. The archway led to a kitchen, spacious and painted a blinding white. He blinked, noting that the light came from candles and lamps again and not the sun through the windows. He was beginning to think the windows were only one-way. He couldn't see through them and they gave no light. Maybe only from the outside could someone look through them?

He headed straight for the cupboard and felt a fleeting bit of disappointment that there was no cooker in the room. Gas could have been useful. He almost opened the cupboard before him when, in the corner of his eye, a blur of green and black stopped him. He froze, his heart thudding and his palms sweating, flight-or-fight coming into motion, but he didn't move for what seemed an hour

But. When nothing happened, when no Loki grabbed his wrists and kissed him, he twisted his eyes to the left, keeping his head facing the cupboard, and almost sagged against it with relief. It was a painting. Of a black ship, colored with blazing green sails, and an ocean rolling in storm beneath it. He tilted his head as he stared at it, surprised despite himself that Loki would even have something like that in his home.

If this even was his home.

Turning away from the painting, Tony opened the cupboard and peered inside. He'd expected it to be empty and for the smell of bread to just tease him, but it was thankfully and actually, filled with food. No cans though, and nothing that he could melt with the candles and turn into something else to use.

Loki was smarter than he'd given him credit for, and he hated that. Hated that the bastard had thought of everything. Tony reached inside and his fingers skimmed over a plate, already overflowing with cooked food. Which may have been disgusting, seeing as it'd been in a cupboard but there was some kind of casing over it anyway. And it was still warm.

Okay. At least Loki was interested in keeping him alive. He probably shouldn't trust the food though, so he just left it in there, and searched for something else that he could make himself. Opening the cupboards around him proved useless, though. Every one of them only held a single plate of food and a bunch of packets that he couldn't open. He groaned in frustration, scratching at his head and he ignored the grumbling in his stomach until he couldn't take it anymore.

He needed to eat if he wanted his heat cycle to delay a little, but he wasn't about to just eat something that Loki had left for him. Who knows what he could have done to it. But when his cramps twisted even more painfully inside, and when his hands started to shake, he merely grit his teeth and grabbed a plate from one of the cupboards.

He ate as he walked around, still trying windows and doors but nothing opened and eventually he just sat on the stairs and decided to eat in peace. The house was still eerily quiet and he twisted his shoulders into his neck when goosebumps erupted over his skin. It was really freaking creepy though, extensively so, and with the only light being the dimly lit candles and lamps, he had a reason to be nervous.

Especially since Loki could come back any second. When he was done eating, Tony dropped the plate down the stairs but it didn't even smash. And that was the last straw. He wasted the next half hour screaming at nothing, letting his anger out because there was literally nothing he could do to stop Loki from coming back and finding him here. Finding him and having his way with him again.

However he wanted and whenever, Tony belonged to him now after all.

"No." Tony growled to himself, getting to his feet. He ran up the stairs, going through each and every door again, trying to find something, anything. There had to be a way out of here that Loki hadn't thought of. There had to be something.

The rooms in the hallway all opened at his touch, unlike this morning - or was it yesterday morning? He didn't know anymore - where they had shut against him and hadn't let him run from Loki. Hadn't let him hide.

He found himself in the room he'd first woken up in more than once, and had raided the boxes again but there was nothing. No clothes and no tools. Nothing.

Loki had planned all this and that thought alone made him just sick.

There was, however, a set of stairs at the end of the hallway, one set he hadn't seen before in his panic, but he'd avoided them so far. The steps looked old and unstable, and he did want all of his limbs non-broken and intact.

But, when he began to run out places to search through, he figured fuck it and headed toward them.

He grabbed the bannister in a tight hold, careful and gentle, and climbed the stairs slowly, wincing at every sharp creak. There was a door at the top of them, but it wouldn't open when he touched it. Which either meant that it was private or that it was a way out. He turned, to ease himself down the stairs again and to find something to try and open this locked door now as well, seeing as the front door wouldn't open, but when he did he froze.

Across the stairs, and in the air between them and the first floor ground, was a rope suspended from an old chandelier. And in the loop of that rope, sunken skinned and covered in dried blood, was the body of an elderly man.

Dead and hung. Twisting around in the air on the rope, as his eyes looked at nothing.

Tony stared. He stared. Shock sent his heartbeat to quicken and he only remembered how to breathe when the rope twisted the man's face away from his, so he couldn't see his eyes anymore. And then, when the body turned further away, he let go of the bannister and staggered down the stairs. Faster than he had climbed up them, and faster than was safe.

But. But when his feet touched the carpet of the first floor, and when he thought he could breathe properly again and in relief, he heard the tell-tale footsteps of Loki's boots on the floor below.

And instead of beating faster, his heart just stopped.

He's back.


	5. Chapter 5

.

Tony didn't wait for Loki to find him. He'd allowed himself a few wasted seconds of listening to Loki's muted footsteps from where he was standing right at the top of stairs, just hidden from view.

His hands felt clammy against his chest, fingers dug into the skin there, and he realized at that sharp press of pain, that he'd palmed them automatically to his reactor. Protectively.

With a soft bitten off curse, he chewed on his bottom lip and pushed himself away from the wood of bannister when Loki's footsteps grew too close for comfort, and ran for the rooms behind him again.

He tried to keep his footfalls as quiet as he could and as muted as Loki's were, but running on floorboards that likely formed a ceiling on the floor below, just seemed to cause faint tremors and he knew that if he ran, Loki would know exactly where he was.

So, forcing himself to slow down he literally tiptoed around instead, freezing every now-and-again when he heard a door close or a floorboard creak where Loki walked and he eventually found one of the smallest rooms in the house - or - Mansion.

Another door slammed downstairs and his entire body flinched, growing cold with the knowledge that, yes, Loki was looking for him.

He skimmed his palm over the wood just above the handle to the door, knowing that it would open at his touch, and grabbed it just before it could open itself with it's usual echoing click.

With it now silenced by his hand, he slipped inside it quickly, almost tripping over the rug that was placed over the carpet - over a carpet, why would you bother? - before shutting it as softly as he could. He stood still for a few seconds, listening out to everything and breathing in rhythmically slow to try and calm himself down; though adrenaline was already running a little too high.

But then, when nothing else happened and when the door still remained shut under his hand, he turned from it and headed over toward the cupboards in the corner of the room. The ones he had discovered before.

Each of the rooms had them, tiny storage cabinets with their own fitted in lamps. They were at a child-like-height, but if Tony crouched as low as he could, then he could easily find their handles and could easily fit inside.

Pulling on a piece of white string that was attached to the door knob, he pulled it open and turned onto his stomach, pushing his legs inside the cupboard first, followed by the rest of him. It was cold inside, darker than he'd expected and it stank of the damp, but at least - and more importantly - it was nowhere near Loki.

He didn't think he'd even planned to hide the moment Loki returned, but evidentially his body had had other ideas, and had decided to lead him here while his mind had continued to push him through it. And now here he was. Huddled inside a cupboard with his heart beating faster than was healthy, and his ears completely focused on any sound that was coming from downstairs.

Pulling the door shut with the same string, he kept a hold of it just in case he was jammed inside here by accident - God, that'd be horrible - and he leant against the sloped wall behind him. At least it wasn't very cramped in here, or else he'd start to feel claustrophobic of all things, and that would just add some needless panic to his problems.

Though he was panicking already, really. Since Loki's disappearance, his anxiety about the situation he'd gotten himself into, had only increased all the more because now he'd no idea what was next for him here.

His third heat cycle wasn't due yet, not for a few hours, which aided the conclusion that after that first time - after Loki had taken him, and claimed him that night - he must have been unconscious for a lot longer than the half-day he'd first assumed, because he'd only woken due to his next cycle. Which would have needed at least 6-9 hours to build.

Meaning that after Loki had knocked him out, he'd had all that time to kill. He must have taken Tony, brought him to this place, dumped him on a bed, had done whatever shit he'd needed to do himself, and then - and then ...

And then what? Had gone downstairs to have a drink, and wait for another of Tony's cycle, just so he could fuck him again?

That didn't sound right. Because, from what he'd seen and from what he'd heard, Loki was the kind of guy that didn't really sit still for too long. Who was always on the move, always plotting, doing something, working on something or -

And here Tony was, comparing himself to the guy once again. Just like he had when -

Is this the first time you've lost a soldier?

Tony squeezed his eyes shut, his mind now whirling back toward just who he had been with then. Who he'd been with when he'd first realized that he and Loki shared a few similarities with each other.

He felt his lids warm and prick, just as his eyes began to sting; a feeling he was unfortunately used to, but he held back everything because now wasn't the time.

And besides, there was no reason to feel like he was mourning them all, or something. It wasn't as though Steve was dead. He'll see him again. He'll see them all again.

He will.

Reopening his eyes, he tried to force himself to focus, but his mind kept tracing itself back toward the others. He wondered, with an almost deadening throb in his stomach, if anyone was even looking for him. If anyone even knew about all this.

He wondered if his team knew. If Pepper, or if Thor, knew that it was all Loki doing this to him. He wondered what they thought of that, and what they thought of him now ...

Well.

Judging from what they'd voiced of his previous reputation before, he didn't doubt that they'd think - at least once - that he might have wanted this. He knew that they'd think that was a possibility, though it hurt to acknowledge it all the same, but saving the world together didn't necessarily mean that they'd given each other their entire trust afterward.

He'd mostly still been regarded by his celebrity status since then, rather than the actual Tony that he really was. So maybe what they thought about this really wasn't -

No. It didn't matter what they thought, and he shouldn't be focusing on this anyway because that would just make everything worse. It didn't matter what they said about him or what they did for him. Because whether they would want him back or not, they wouldn't be able to do anything about it anyway.

Because by law, Loki was in the prime position, to - to keep Tony as his own.

And due to an Alpha-bond being seen as more dominant compared to an Omega's needs in a relationship, the law would decree that if anyone tried to take Tony away from his Alpha, if anyone tried to rebuke Loki's claim on him ... then Loki would be more than welcome to start his very own Trojan-War in New York, over it all.

A ... New-Yorkan-war.

Tony pressed his knuckles into his eyes and groaned inwardly.

It would all be perfectly legal too - God the system really sucked.

He should have invested more into all those Omega-right campaigns that he'd always seen going on. There were hundreds of pressure groups worldwide protesting against this kind of thing, but he'd never really paid much attention to it all.

He'd always thought himself that the Alpha he'd finally decide to settle with would only be his because Tony had chose him himself, and that he would never use his dominant nature to control his Omega.

He'd always hoped for a healthy relationship, regardless of his biology.

Tony traced the bruises on his wrists. He'd hoped wrong.

And now, if his team did try to help him, if they did think he was the victim in all this, they'd only manage to incite an entire war instead of actually helping him. A war where they would be in the wrong ...

With themselves, with Tony, and with whoever else might have gotten hurt in the process.

Because usually, Alpha-on-Alpha fights over one Omega would take place in stereotypical bar brawls or street fights, but this was the Avengers and this was Loki.

It would be a full blown battle, which was kind of flattering in a sickening sort of way.

And knowing Loki, he would be very unlikely to pass off that kind of opportunity to cut down on the Avengers. He'd be the perfect Menelaus; arrogant, possessive and rude, and willing to just take what he thought was his. But then, if this was still going by Troy, then that would make Tony -

He rolled his eyes at himself, thinking back to his old school days and to all that Greek mythology. He'd always hated Helen of Troy. But at least Loki wasn't Paris because then that would mean that he and Tony would -

Click.

He froze.

The door to the room he was hidden in - hidden in , how pathetic - whined on it's hinges and eased itself open; and Tony practically stopped breathing.

He tightened his grip on the string still clutched in his hand, pressing his back further against the wall until all he could feel was the cold from the concrete seeping in through to his skin. Making him shiver horribly but he daren't move any more in case Loki heard.

Loki moved around the room as slowly and as deliberately as he had when he'd stalked Tony up the stairs this morning. And at every groan and cry of the floorboards, each and every one of Tony's muscles grew rigid until it was all he could focus on.

Focusing on the sound of Loki's footsteps and on how different they sounded, depending on just how far from Tony he was standing.

When the door at the front opened again, he almost let out a breathy sigh of relief, before swallowing it down in a hushed and choked gasp when the cupboard just beside him creaked open instead.

He could hear it, loud and clear as though he were inside it himself, and he pulled his legs closer to his chest; biting down hard on the inside of his bottom lip and placing a hand over the bruises on his left wrist.

Go **away**.

The cupboard to his right was then opened, the door kicked off it's hinge judging from the sounds it made, but still Loki left the one he was sitting in closed.

Tony didn't move. He hardly breathed, and yet instead of remaining frozen, his muscles locked until he began to cramp.

He ignored the pain, ignored the urges his body gave him to stretch and to shake, but after two long minutes of complete silence from Loki, he didn't quite manage to hold back the sharp gasp that bubbled to his lips, when the door to his cupboard was finally pulled open in a rush.

The string in his hand was tugged away when the handle was torn off, and he found himself gazing up into Loki's blank and cold eyes.

But instead of feeling the fear or the hatred that he'd expected to, he only felt rather stupid with himself - hiding in a cupboard from someone who clearly knew the mansion back-to-front. Had he really expected to stay safe in here?

Loki planted his hands on the wall above the cupboard, looking down at him with a small and curved smile, but when he opened his mouth to speak Tony beat him to it.

"Did you kill him?" And, for some reason, that was the first thing he wanted to say.

Loki paused, dropping one hand from the wall to reach into the cupboard for Tony's face. Tony darted back from it, glaring at him.

"Kill, who?" Loki asked, his voice as smooth and calm as it always seemed to be. He grabbed Tony's shoulder when Tony still refused to let him touch his face, and he used that grip to slide him over the floor of the cupboard toward the edge.

Tony struggled under his grip, but when his arms were grabbed instead, he was practically hauled out of the cupboard in a single movement which left no time for him to even push back against it.

He did manage to shake the grip after that though, and he then took two steps back and away from Loki, rubbing his arms and still glaring for all that it was worth. "The man upstairs. Did you kill him?"

Loki stared at him for a moment, his eyes scanning over him briefly, before he turned away and headed for the door. "No." He murmured in answer, his back to Tony, and he moved like he was leaving. Like, finding Tony was all he'd wanted to do, and now that he'd done so, maybe he'd just leave him alone.

That particular train of thought, however, was brought to a horrid stop when he looked once over his shoulder and saw that Tony wasn't following.

Loki's expression darkened and he turned fully, walking back toward him in longer strides that had Tony scrambling back; trying to get something other than him - stools, boxes, drawers - into Loki's line of attack. But Loki tossed just everything to one side and shot out a hand to grab Tony by his arm once again .

Tony planted his feet firmly onto the carpet, digging his toes down to try and hold his ground, but when Loki pulled all it served to do was give him a burn on the soles of his feet until he eventually gave up.

That didn't stop him struggling though.

"Let go of me Snape, I can walk on my own two - " Loki released him when they stepped onto the stairs, and when Tony had only the one foot hovered in the air while the other teetered over the edge of a step. It was no surprise that the only way forward was for him to tumble into Loki's back, but what was a surprise was Loki catching him.

"Can you, indeed." Loki's eyes bored into Tony's as he spoke, holding his gaze easily, and the amusement in them almost led Tony to spit at him. To get rid of all that fucking sadistic glee.

But, thankfully, today he was thinking first before doing.

However, before he could even start to push himself away from Loki and to regain his footing, there were arms around his waist and around his thighs and he was being hoisted up.

Up and over. Tossed over Loki's shoulder like a limp sack.

"No -!" Loki placed a hand over his back to keep him still, and when he kicked out at him, his legs were only grabbed by the ankles and were squeezed until he was whimpering behind his teeth for it to stop. "Okay. ... okay," He mumbled, his voice low, resigned, "I get it, alright, I won't struggle." The squeezing let up, but he was still held tight. "Just - just stop it."

Loki didn't answer and, still holding onto Tony's ankles, he carefully stepped down the rest of the stairs until they were once again standing in the hall. The front door was open -fuck, it was open, and it was just there, he could -

When Tony saw it, he flopped over Loki's back, straining his arms and kicking just to reach for it but a single jolt from Loki knocked his head against it's frame and his eyes lost their focus.

And then, they were through into the room that had the table in it, and he couldn't see the door anymore.

"No, take me back, let me out ... " He didn't care that he'd said it aloud, but Loki answered him anyway by letting him hear the click of the front door as it shut.

Shut again. Sealed, barred, and inoperable by Tony. "... you bastard."

Tony's back knocked against the table when he was literally dropped onto it's surface, and he immediately rolled off when Loki used his hips to pull him closer.

But instead of forcing him back, Loki walked past him and sat in a chair himself, seemingly oblivious to how Tony sprang back from him.

The table was round, and didn't have exactly a head, but there were still opposite ends and at Loki's gesture Tony stared at the seat that he'd been deposited in front of.

Um.

Loki didn't wait for him to catch on, and it was then that Tony realized there was a plate of food in front of him, and another at the seat Tony was supposedly meant to take.

Food. Food was good.

Food meant that there would be no - no rape. Food meant that Loki was stalling his cycle, for whatever reason. Maybe. Unless the food was spiked, which was another possibility.

Could be spiked with something magic or something even weirder - with something that could make Tony's third heat cycle fast-forward instead of prospo -

"Sit."

Tony snapped his eyes up at the order, staring as Loki took a bite out of the meat stuck to his fork, before taking a single step back from the table. Before he could leave the room however, the door behind him slammed shut and audibly locked.

He jumped around at the noise, startled, and immediately tried to open it; placing his palm over the handle just as he'd done so many times before, but it refused to reopen.

And while he tried a second time, pressing his palm onto it more firmly, the door leading to the kitchen also slammed shut and he winced. Digging his fingers into the gap proved useless and he wouldn't degrade himself to slamming his fists against it when Loki was watching.

Bowing his head until his chin touched his collarbone, he started to count slowly to himself in tens and in his head only. To 100.

When he completed the task that Bruce had once told him to try, he turned around again and took "his" seat wordlessly. Loki said nothing at this, and simply continued to eat but Tony neglected his plate, going as far as to push it away from him, and chose to glower across the table at Loki instead; putting as much hate into his gaze as he could.

But still, Loki said nothing, and in the end it was Tony who broke the silence.

"What is it exactly that you want from me?" Loki dabbed at his mouth with a cloth, wiping at it's corners while he gave Tony a faux-thoughtful look.

"There are certain things that you ought to know, Stark," He said, instead of answering Tony's question, and when Tony opened his mouth to repeat it angrily, he found his lips pressed together. Found them sealed shut with magic.

Loki blinked at him slowly from across the table, watching as Tony's fingers scrabbled over his lips in a moment of sudden panic - feeling around and trying to pry them open - before dropping his hands into his lap and sending anything that he felt on the matter through his eyes and through his facial expression. And he made it all clear, alright.

Loki's eyes flashed again in amusement at Tony's anger, as though anything Tony did to him was seen as only a small endearment rather than an actual threat. "The first rule I have for you," Loki continued, again eating from his plate as he spoke.

Tony clenched his hands into fists at the word rule and breathed in slowly through his nose. Staring at Loki.

"You will live here from now on, as my Omega. You will be always here, even when I am not." Tony felt his shoulders begin to rise as he tensed and he forced it down, tightening his fist when his fingers started to shake. "And you will not ever leave here."

Tony leant forward, every instinct of his telling him to pounce on Loki and to attack him, but every other submissive instinct of his biology telling him to just sit and listen. The result of this brief conflict was a frenzied half-jump in his seat.

Nothing more and nothing really that effective. So instead, he kicked at the table with a muffled shout of anger, in the hope that Loki's plate would at least fall onto him.

It didn't.

Loki spoke over the noise he made, coolly, "The second rule," He took a sip of the water that was in his glass, watching Tony all the while. "Your team will be seen and mentioned as nothing more than a memory now, and your life before this, will be seen as less than that. Anything of yours is mine, you know this, and that include your team's home and belongings, in case you were unaware."

Tony's breathing hitched and he struggled to control himself, but how could he? He hadn't any control anymore, it was all being taken from him.

"The third. While I am in this house, you will serve me. With both your body and with your company."

Tony dug his fingers into his knees, his teeth grinding audibly behind his sealed lips.

"You will not try to escape, and any attempts to will be punished. Though," Loki flicked his gaze to the door behind Tony. "All attempts made today will be ignored, as I can be merciful at times." Oh. So sealed lips can't hold back disdainful snorts. Who knew. "The mess you made, however, will be cleaned by you. As will any mess that you decide to make in this residence."

Tony's legs were throbbing now, but still he dug his fingers into them, hoping that the pain could overwhelm him enough that it could drown out the rest of what Loki had to say.

"When I am elsewhere, you are entitled to do whatever you may please to do. To the extent that it does not, of course, include attempting to leave." Loki used his fingers to lift a piece of cooked carrot into his mouth, and he spoke again just after he'd swallowed, "If I order you to do something, you will submit to your instincts and obey."

No. No he fucking won't.

"And the last rule, is that you will permanently remain bare whilst you are here. There is no clothing for you, Stark, and this "carpet" that lies atop the floor will sustain any warmth that you may need. I would likely grow tired of undressing you time and time again."

Oh, **poor** you, Tony thought viciously.

And with it now all said, Loki ate the last of his dish before standing. The door behind Tony opened slowly, but he didn't move, and didn't look up until Loki stopped just beside the bowl of the metal fruit.

He sucked in a short gasp, as soon as his lips were permitted to actually part, no longer sealed by magic.

And when he felt Loki's eyes on him, he couldn't just stay silent about all this, "Look," He said, his voice rough and almost pleading already, but he had to say this. He had to try. "I'm yours, okay," Loki gazed down at him, a curious smile making it's way over his mouth, "You claimed me, and I belong to you, and blah blah blah." He sucked in a breath, looking up at Loki properly now. "But," He was frowned at now, Loki's eyes narrowing at the simple conjunctive. "I prepared for something like this. I told you before, there are safeguards and -"

"I have your home, Stark," Loki interrupted him. "I have your livelihood, your weapons and your technology. And after this morning, your world knows it -"

"I still have government officials that were present when those forms were written." Tony argued, ignoring the comment about how this kind of news was spreading. He didn't want to know who knew just yet, he just wanted out.

"If I'm not in a relationship and I bonded, then they are at legal right to investigate this. And unless you want your ass handed back to Asgard for messing around with Midgard again, which I'm assuming you really don't, then you'll have to let them in to have a little look around. And JARVIS - my AI - also has to scan me with them present, and my representative needs to see me actually give my consent. That'll be James Rhodes, army official and friend of yours truly."

Loki's fingers tapped the apple on the bowl, sending a metallic ring to echo around, but Tony spoke over it, ignoring how fast his heart was beating now, "Plus the fact, that if you don't let this happen, you'll face charges and your brother will be able deliver them straight to your father. So once it's all over and done with, it'll be clear that this bond was forced, and it'll be bye-bye you."

Okay, so half of that was a lie but that didn't matter. Loki probably didn't care about being legal anyway, unless it worked in his favor, but the threat about his father was completely real and judging from the look on his face it had effected him in some way at least. Something that had to work for Tony.

But then, Loki ruined it all.

He smiled down at Tony from where he stood and he waved a hand over the apple he'd tapped slowly, turning it from metal to real. He offered it to Tony first, before taking a bite out of it when it was refused, and he spoke then; with his smile still there. "Since I discovered what you were, Stark, I have done some "investigation" of my own,"

Tony knocked the hand that reached for his hair away, "Look, just give me your answer and -!"

"Your safeguards mean nothing. Those so-called forms have all been destroyed and any who knew of them, no longer remember," Tony stared at him, refusing to let his expression show anything other than anger, "Your Colonel is aware and remembers it all, but as no one - as you said - official does, he can do nothing. And neither can you."

He'd seen Rhodey. He'd spoken to Rhodey, and had told him what he'd -

"No," Tony jumped out of his seat when Loki approached him, backing up, "No, it's not that simple, you can't just-" Tony stumbled over another chair behind him, "There are still other things that I can -"

"It is that simple, Stark. And as encouraging a liar as you strive to be, I can still see that plainly." Loki took another bite out of the apple, leaning against the edge of the table, while Tony continued to back away from him,

"Now," He said lightly, as though he hadn't just ripped out the last of Tony's hope, "Have you understood all my rules, or are there any that I should make clearer for you?" He rolled the apple in his hands, "The punishments, perhaps?"

Tony stared, "I -" He looked away, and then looked back, unclenched his hands and lowered his eyes. And then, cleared his throat, "Look, just listen to me okay," He started again, biting the inside of his cheek when his back hit the wall behind him, "I get that you want me to stay here. To stay here with you and where you can always find me, but hear me out about this first. If you - if you let me go home, then I promise -" He shut his eyes, "I'll promise, that whenever you come to me, I'll - I'll do what you want,"

God.

"Just let me live in my own home, with my friends and with my team. Let me live my life. I'll still be your Omega and I'll still let you - let you use me, but only if you let me leave. If you let me have my freedom and my life back. Only then."

Please.

He'd die sitting here day after day, just waiting for Loki to return from wherever he decides to go and to just abuse him. That is not going to be his life, not if he can help it.

His heart beat in his throat as he waited for an answer, as he stared at Loki licking the juice from the apple off of the side of his wrist. Waiting and waiting.

But then, when Loki did open his mouth to speak, when he uttered a final, quiet and calm; "No": Tony let himself slide down the wall to his knees. Let his expression shutter and he stayed there, watching as Loki crossed the rest of the room to leave, but before he did.

Before he locked Tony away somewhere again, Tony tried one last time, "Please."

Loki barely glanced at him and his answer ended up being the door shutting, and the plate of food that was still on the table vanishing.

And for the first time since all this had started, when everything had been taken from him, Tony realized that he literally had nothing to hold onto anymore.

That it wasn't just speculation now, but fact. There was no one out there that could help him, and anything that could have was now disabled. He was lost.

Alone in all this.

And, despite not having done so in three years, despite knowing it was stupid to, he put his face into his hands and he sobbed to himself.

.


	6. Chapter 6

The cupboard wasn't broken. Neither were the drawers. The cutlery was littered over the floor, but hadn't even dented. The windows weren't scratched or smashed, and the table was completely intact.

And yet, every single one of Tony's fingers were either bruised or bleeding. His nails were chipped and there were cuts on his wrists, elbows and face. His eyes stung from his dried tears and he could feel the flush of his next cycle building up over his skin as he pushed and kicked at everything in the room.

The doors at the end opened when he touched them but he'd slammed them shut when he'd seen Loki lounging on one of the chairs outside. The mess that Tony had made had vanished - despite what Loki had said before about making Tony clean it up - but that was all Tony had had the patience for seeing before he'd turned away.

Trying to destroy everything hadn't exactly been a rational decision but his instincts had always led to destruction in moods like this, though the satisfaction hadn't yet come because every damn thing in this house was fused together. Nothing had broken or even cracked, besides anything on Tony's body itself.

Now - exhausted, defeated and, really, just so miserable - he was huddled in the corner, doused in sprinkles of water from the sink in the hopes that his scent would be covered enough by it to be hidden from Loki's instincts, and shivering as his cycle built up once again.

Heat pooled in his stomach and he tightened the muscles in his thighs when they started to ache.

Loki hadn't come a-knocking or a-looking for him yet but he knew that it was only a matter of time, and fuck if Tony tried hiding again. It hadn't worked before and it wouldn't work now, but he still felt sick just sitting here like this; waiting for the inevitable.

Fighting back had proved useless already: skin-to-skin contact generally just made Tony want to crawl against Loki's skin and let him do whatever he wanted, which was not exactly the kind of trail of thought that he'd really want to go over.

Hiding, shouting and trying to talk had also been proved useless. Tony bowed his head between his legs; letting out a startled gasp at the sharp stab of pain in his side. Either he was still sore from everything Loki had done, or his hunger was affecting him again.

"Two more days", he whispered to himself, "Just two more, and you'll have a clearer head." He'd be able to plan then, manipulate even - maybe - and think clearer at least, "Just two more - "

The doors opposite him clicked open and he was on his feet in an instant.

Loki barely looked at his way as he staggered to his feet, and simply turned to close the doors with the sort of finality that only he could really get away with.

Tony's chest heaved as he stared at him, aware that he was cornered already, and sweat slid down his skin as his body started to betray him once again. With the door now shut and locked, Loki began to cross the room toward him; striding long and slow and - and as fucking calm and casual as he always was.

Tony side-stepped past the walls, going around the table and going further away from Loki. Not exactly running because - minus the adrenaline his body seemed to think he didn't need - he really didn't have the strength to try and do that again.

He was still bruised from his last attempt.

Loki paused, turning to look at him with one amused eyebrow raised, "This again?" He drawled and Tony didn't answer, just continued moving in whatever direction was the opposite of where Loki was heading.

He didn't think Loki the type to leap over furniture to grab someone, but that didn't exactly rule out the magic or the strength and the thought of those made Tony's heart pound almost painfully at the reminder; though he still kept trying to move away anyway.

Because right now. Right now, he was amusing Loki. And an amused Loki was better than an angry Loki.

"Yep," Tony answered finally, speaking a little louder than necessary to mask whatever fear he could already feel rippling through him, "This again."

Loki turned abruptly, walking in the same direction as Tony now, "Do you not ever learn from your mistakes, Stark?" He sneered.

Tony turned as well, keeping up with the banter as much as he could without letting his voice shake, "You know, you really don't scare me, so you can drop the intimidating tone already."

"Oh but I am not trying to scare you," Loki murmured, now coming to a halt entirely. Tony continued for a bit until he noticed, then quickly stopping where he was as well, his chest aching and throbbing with all kinds of emotions, "If I were, you would be trembling at my feet right now," He grinned then, sharp and cutting, "Which, admittedly, is not so bad an image to imagine."

"Fuck you." Tony spat, planting his hands behind him on the wall just in case he needed to push himself away from it in a minute.

Loki's expression darkened, and oops, there goes the amused-Loki.

He was beckoned with a single finger, which was ignored, and only made Tony bristle at the -

"Come here." Tony stared at him, half-certain that his face had morphed into an accurate expression of: 'Are you serious right now, you asshole', "Remember my rules, Stark, and obey. I'm sure you would rather not be punished so early on."

The finger beckoning him curved and Tony blinked sharply at the effect it had on him.

A slightly pull on bone, a thrum through his veins and an invisible tug over his chest had Tony walking forward when neither his brain nor body had directed him to.

Loki's finger curved again as he sat on one of the chairs beside the table, beckoning Tony closer and each gesture brought another forced tug that had Tony stumbling at the set pace.

"Stop it - " Tony gripped the table as he was forced past, trying to stop himself from walking, but the wood only creaked under his fingers as he continued on; until he stood before Loki.

The tugging disappeared, and with a split second of hesitation Tony immediately spun around; his left foot lifted into the start of a run but he was grabbed by his waist before he could even push off to. Before he could even scream.

Loki's hand clamped over his mouth as he bucked on his lap and he yanked Tony's head back by his hair when he bit him. The pain lasted only a second before Tony shouted as the position intensified the throbbing in his stomach.

"Ah - "

Loki's tongue found his neck and Tony closed his eyes, turning his face away and managing to elbow Loki once in the ribs before he was spun around and held firmly over strong thighs and hard knees.

The amusement was back, the shadow of a grin on Loki's face, but it disappeared when Tony spat at him. His arms were then held in a tight grip and forced around Loki's shoulders, as the inside of his own wrist was used to wipe his own spit off of Loki's bitter little face.

He pulled back, arching his spine and spreading his legs to try and slip off of Loki but with his arms now around the guy's shoulders, all he could do was just grab a hold of them and grip tight when he was suddenly hoisted into the air.

"I would hold on," Loki advised him, shifting them both together, and holding Tony's legs apart for his use.

"Is this - seriously all that you want me for?" Tony panted, pressed flat against Loki and he grimaced at the thought of the arc reactor touching that chest, "Is this seriously what you expect me to live like?" He had to know, he had to know if Loki really was as insane as he acted and looked, "For the rest of my life?"

"Of course not," Loki huffed out, a smirk spreading over his lips that only widened when Tony had no choice but to bury his face into his neck, letting out a low whine as Loki pushed into him, "When you begin to grow old, I'll simply kill you."

Oh. Okay then.

Tony lifted his head from Loki's neck, leaving their faces just an inch apart, and after that answer all he could do was just stare at him in complete disbelief.

Loki clearly didn't feel uncomfortable under the scrutiny and simply thrusted into Tony from the awkward angle, watching from their so very close proximity, as either pain or pleasure bloomed over Tony's face.

At another thrust Tony looked away - his hands tightening over Loki's shoulders as he kept up a repeat of: 'Two more days' in his head - as Loki quickened his pace and hardened his thrusts. He blinked past the sweat in his eyes, and dug his chin into the skin at Loki's neck as he looked over the shoulder there at the mess he'd made in his anger.

Loki hadn't commented on it yet, but there was no doubt that he would afterward - when both their instincts had settled down a little - or in Tony's case, when they finally let him think something other than 'Get something in me right now, I need it'.

Like escaping, for one, because he really should be thinking of that right now. This was all too easy for Loki to just take, but with the Alpha genes, magic, and with Tony in cycle, he was very likely to win the first few rounds.

That's fine - Tony told himself, a light moan slipping out of his mouth as Loki adjusted them - that's fine. It's fine. He'll get out of this yet, when he's out of heat he'll work this out, he will.

And there would be no way he was leaving without Loki having a little pain first.

Loki shifted them again and Tony bit his lip hard, feeling every muscle grow weak as his heat finally got what it wanted.

He focused on the mess instead, pinpointing everything else out, because it was easier.

The cutlery from the drawers glinted in the candlelight and Tony blinked when some shined into his eyes. On the table beside them - the table that Loki had leant one hand on to support Tony's legs, so he could thrust in a little deeper - had a couple of spoons on it; just near the candleholder.

Tony focused on them, because why the hell not?

It was better than focusing on everything else.

The spoons were smooth, silver and tinted, and surprisingly had no snakes on them. The forks did, however, and when Tony had tried to use them to snap the window's ledge off, they hadn't even bent in the slightest.

The one knife beside the spoons was sharp - sharper than Tony had expected it to be when he'd grabbed it, but the only thing it had really cut seemed to be skin because the wall it had been flung at has literally flung it back at Tony until he'd had to duck when it rebounded.

And the candles were -

Wait.

Knife.

/Knife/.

Tony blinked sharply, shaking the hair out his eyes but before he could find the knife again, Loki buried himself deep inside him with a vibrating groan. Tony stiffened as Loki held him there, clutching at his back and sighing into his neck. He froze at the tongue over his skin, still looking over Loki's shoulder, because he needed - he needed it, where was -

There!

Just by the candleholder.

Well within reach.

Loki barely pulled out of him before thrusting again and Tony let his moans spill out now, mostly because keeping them in had just seemed to hurt his throat if nothing else, and also because they could act as a distraction for Loki.

At the either pain or pleasure-filled sounds now flowing out of Tony's mouth, Loki slowed his thrusts, as though he wanted to savor them and Tony almost bit into Loki's shoulder in retaliation to the idea.

He needed to reach behind Loki for the knife, he needed Loki to not catch him - he needed his eyes closed.

Leaning his head back Tony looked down at Loki from his lifted angle, breathing heavily with his lips apart and already bitten from his own teeth. He lowered his lashes slightly; giving the impression that he was either dazed or horny.

Loki didn't seem particularly impressed, at least not until Tony bent his head at the neck to kiss him.

At that, Loki's hands tightened over Tony's body and he pulled him closer, kissing him back harder than necessary until Tony moaned again, from just the feel of Loki's lips against his. It was horrible, knowing just who it was he was kissing, but keeping one eye open he could just about reach for the knife now and he'll have a -

Loki shifted them again, leaning away from the table, but before bitter disappointment could flow through Tony his hand brushed over the handle and he grabbed at it just at the last second; before it could have been out of reach.

It scraped over the table as he lifted it and, panicking a little, he hissed loudly at a harsh thrust to cover the sound.

One of Loki's hands slipped up over his back and to his neck, cupping it in a rough hold and squeezing it. Tony gasped at the abrupt violence, suddenly thinking that Loki really would kill him early after all, but at a low groan from the God in question he guessed that there was probably another reason.

There was always another reason with him.

"You tighten like that," Loki murmured to him, answering Tony's question before he'd even thought of asking it, and he squeezed Tony's neck again, "You tighten when I hurt you like this."

"Right," Tony murmured back, deliberately being as vague as possible and - maybe it was because of the lack of struggling or because of the lack insulting that he was giving, but Loki's eyes flashed at his low tone and he pulled them both closer. Perfect. "You enjoy that, Loki."

Loki's surprised smile sent the last snap of anger that Tony needed and his hand clenched around the knife as he drew his arm back, bringing it slicing down between Loki's shoulder-blades.

"Oh - "

Loki's eyes widened as they stared at him, glazing a little and the amusement ebbed away slowly.

Tony swallowed as he felt the knife sink in, the skin under his hands thick and hard but it yielded to the knife at least and he pushed it in deeper - his face still so close to Loki's that he could hear soft sound of surprise that he'd let out at the stab.

With gritted teeth, Tony twisted the knife in further, not caring how much damage he could cause but just knowing that it was hurting Loki.

He was hurting him. He was finally hurting the bastard.

"Enjoy that, do you?" He growled, twisting the knife again and though no other sound came out of Loki's mouth to suggest so, the pain was apparent, "Do I fucking tighten like this? Does this feel good for you?"

Loki's eyes darkened and he pushed at Tony, shifting them together making Tony gasp as he moved inside him - still inside him, God - and he was shoved over the table's surface. He kept a fierce hold on the knife, keeping it pressed in, and after seeing the anger and pain in Loki's eyes he couldn't help but grin at him.

"Not so much fun when I fight back is it?" He sneered.

Loki paused, his eyes narrowing and suddenly so very intrusive that Tony paused as well, his fingers still tight and clasped around the knife's handle. What was he -

Then. Suddenly.

Grabbing his hair with one hand, Loki yanked Tony's head down over the table, and when Tony tried to kick him in return, he kissed him.

If he could even call this a kiss. Kisses were meant to be romantic - sweet even - or at least full of passion. And completely consensual. This was not a kiss.

Loki swallowed Tony's protesting scream of rage as he pressed his lips to his, and in mid-heat the feel of Loki's tongue running over his own sent warmth thrumming through Tony's body; making him shiver and moan and arch toward Loki.

Bastard. Fucking fucking fucking Bastard.

He'd almost gotten over the cycle, he'd even felt a burst of adrenaline with the stab, and now Loki'd just -

Loki pulled away, his teeth scraping over Tony's bottom lip just the once before he smiled at him; sharp and piercing, and in the reflection of his green eyes Tony could see himself - wild-eyed, hair mussed and mouth open and wet.

So, yeah, he could see the attraction. But that didn't mean -

"Not fun?" Tony gaped up at him, "It's starting to be." Loki murmured in answer to Tony's angry statement, his voice low and raspy.

And when he shifted inside Tony again, Tony hissed and yanked on the knife hard, making Loki cry out as well.

Now the anger was back and both Tony's wrists were pulled around from behind Loki's back and held over his own head. He struggled against the tight grip, gritting his teeth when the bones ground together as they were held there.

But they were released anyway when Loki used his hands to pull the knife out of his back.

With Loki's attention elsewhere, Tony reached around behind him and grabbed a hold of the candleholder behind him. He lifted it up, straining at the weight of the brass and - when Loki snapped his head up to look at him with a confused frown - he brought it smashing down over his head.

The knife clattered to the ground when Loki dropped it.

A tense silence followed, almost deathly silent, and Tony shut his eyes at the crack he'd just caused; flinching at the broken clay that sprayed over his bare chest afterward.

When the silence continued and Loki did and said nothing else, Tony risked slowly opening his eyes again - a sudden, optimistic side of him telling him that hey, maybe he'd even knocked the guy out - but when his lashes caught against Loki's he guessed that optimistic side of him was also kind of an idiot.

The candleholder had actually broken though, which was more than what Tony could have achieved on his own at least but he couldn't exactly use it right now so that was pointless as well.

And, though the candleholder had split in half, Loki wasn't even bleeding at all, and from the angle he was bent over in the cut that Tony had given him with the knife could barely even be seen.

Pain had definitely been in Loki's eyes, but evidently, not enough because he'd either healed really quickly or had been faking the entire time.

One was more likely than the other.

"You faked." Tony said before really thinking it out, but Loki didn't seem to even hear him as he leaned over him.

"Did any of that seem like a good idea?" Loki asked him, so fucking patronising that Tony wanted to spit at him again, just to wipe all that amusement off. When Tony didn't answer, however, Loki hit him in the face. The blow made him bite his own tongue and spun his head to one side.

Tony blinked twice, more hurt than shocked if he was honest with himself, but he didn't bother turning his head back when Loki grabbed his now unresisting wrists and thrusted into him; slowly.

What was the point?

He was still breathing heavily from the mini-little-fight-thing they'd had, and disappointment flowed through him bitterly as he lay there over the table, the knife on the floor and too far now. It'd been useless anyway.

Why was everything he tried to do turn out to be so useless?

God, no wonder no one was coming to save him.

He wouldn't.

Tony closed his eyes when he was thrust into again, ignoring the soft sighs of pleasure coming from Loki, but they flashed open again in surprise when Loki stopped moving and suddenly lifted him again.

"Shit - "

He clung to Loki's shoulders to stop himself from falling backward, but Loki twisted him around anyway, sliding an arm under his knees and placing the other around Tony's shoulders.

Tony bucked in the hold but Loki only curled his arms in, pressing his face and chest Loki's own and he dug his nails into the nipple there to try and at least show his protest - seeing as voicing it never seemed to do anything.

Loki turned and carried Tony as he walked out of the room.

"Keep at that, and you will sorely regret it." Loki warned him, grimacing when Tony's nails scratched, "You are in heat Stark, as I'm sure you remember, and if I leave you now you will be in pain. Whether you want this or not, you cannot argue with that fact."

"I have my fingers." Tony argued, digging his nails in harder until Loki shook him roughly to stop him.

"But is that really what you want?" Loki grinned down at him, walking up the stairs now.

Tony glared up at him, "I don't want you more."

"Oh I've gathered," They came to the door that led to the room that Tony had woken up in before. Loki's knee brushed against Tony's back as he kicked it open, jarring Tony a little and his nose bumped against Loki's chest hard, making it throb, "But fingers cannot solve what your Alpha can."

Tony twisted in his hold at that, harder now, and let out a sharp cry of surprise when he was dropped. His stomach squirmed when he landed on the bed, the sheets bunching beneath his scrambling, "You are not my Alpha." He spat.

The bed dipped as Loki knelt on it.

"We - bonded, yeah, but it doesn't mean anything. I don't care about you, and you sure as fuck don't care about me. You're my Alpha officially, but other than that, you're nothing to me."

Loki glanced over him and Tony wanted to move out of the position he was currently in - sat with his knees drawn up and spread and leaning back on his hands - but he had nowhere else to move to.

"Are you finished?" Loki asked him coolly, not seeming the slightest bit fazed by Tony's little rant.

But.

But when Tony tried to crawl backward and away, his face suddenly morphed into something a lot more threatening than just anger.

"I - "

"I asked if you were finished."

"I'm finished." Tony said, keeping his voice calm though heat still pooled in his stomach and though his heart was pounding, "I'm done."

"Good," Loki leant closer, making the bed dip even more until Tony was sliding toward him, "Because I think that already you need a reminder of my rules, don't you. You need a reminder of what happens to you when you disobey."

"All I've done is shout, you sadistic little - "

"You stabbed me Stark," Loki smiled now when that shut Tony up, but the anger still glimmering in it only made it look a whole lot less human on him, "Very sly of you, as well. I barely saw the knife in your hand before you attempted to harm me. Well done."

Shut up.

Loki's eyes were still glinting and Tony swallowed now, his mouth and throat dry and constricting.

The prospect of punishments hadn't seemed too important before - Tony had known he'd break these rules, he just didn't think he'd be so scared of the consequences.

But Loki was dangerous. Loki was a killer.

Loki was sadistic. He was unstable.

'Punishments' … could really mean anything with him.

"You look frightened," Loki murmured, tilting Tony's face up with his hand, "It suits you." Tony glared at him, jerking his face away, but before he could spit out an an insult to match that remark he was dragged down the bed by his legs and pinned onto his side.

"No. No more, I - "

"I don't recall giving you permission to speak, Stark."

Tony kicked out when Loki shifted closer until he was beside him, fisting his hands into the sheets as his elbows swung to the side; hoping to catch onto Loki somewhere where it hurts and to stop him.

Loki's fingers drummed over his spine.

"Stop it, already" Tony spat, his mind racing, "My cycle's over!"

Loki didn't even bother to comment on that lie and just pushed into him again, using one hand to press hard over the side of Tony's hip as he held him down; keeping him with his back flush against Loki's chest.

The other arm was wrapped around Tony's waist and it shook them both as Loki sped his thrusts. Tony bit his lips, held them shut with his teeth, and his face burned because this was exactly what his heat wanted, and exactly what he himself hated.

Loki grunted in his ear, kissing it as he did: softer than anything Tony ever thought he was capable of.

He was moving faster now, no longer caring about taunting Tony or about giving himself pleasure, and only following through with instincts instead; responding to Tony's pheromones and only trying to get release as soon as he could.

Fuck him. Just fuck -

Tony thrashed when Loki's fingers brushed over his reactor, and he let out a strange sound of panic when those fingers then dug around the sides.

"No don't, don't."

And surprisingly, Loki didn't.

Instead he twisted Tony's legs around with a face so cold, it burned into Tony as he stared up at it. Loki twisted the legs until they curled against Tony's chest uncomfortably. Until it was incredibly painful when he was thrust into again.

Why -

At a third thrust a sharp spike of pain ran into Tony and he cried out, blinking twice as tears pricked in his eyes at the stings of pain and soreness. Loki continued to thrust, holding Tony's position in place, and either oblivious to how much it hurt or just not caring.

Tony's breaths grew heavier and he bit down on his fist.

Heat made Omega's wet and ready, yes. Made them all nice and open for an Alpha's invasion - Tony hated his biology - but holding them in any position that sent a thrust into the wall instead of in meant that each thrust rubbed them raw. Made them burn from the inside instead.

Loki must know that.

He would know that, he'd -

God that hurts!

Another thrust sent a stinging whip of pain over Tony's spine and he thrashed again over the sheets, trying to get away.

He was a little hard now, had been half-hard before as a result of his heat cycle rolling up, but now - adding both sensations to all this - only made it worse and he actually screamed when Loki's fingers squeezed around his cock.

"Don't - stop, that hurts, that hurts, that fucking hurts!" He couldn't keep that back, couldn't shut himself up because he was panicking so much, but Loki continued anyway.

He didn't care.

Loki must be close now, or at least he should be, but still Tony moaned low and pained as each thrust burned. He'd never felt pain in sex before, not like this, and not for so long.

"Stop," He hissed out raggedly, dragging a hand around to try and push Loki away by pressing on his hips but Loki just leant over him; muffling Tony's next scream with the sheets as he shook limply with the thrusts.

The pain burned through him, and he knew now, he knew that this must be one of the punishments. He'd stabbed Loki, had hit him with a candleholder, and this - this was the result.

He screamed into the sheets again when a thrust hit him hard, sure he was bleeding now, and he nearly sobbed but still Loki thrusted.

"Stop!" He shouted, sounded strangled and hoarse. He lifted his head up a little, to take a breath and to let his voice be heard, "Stop it, okay, I get the picture now and you - ah - stop, it hurts …"

"I know."

h

His head was pressed back into the sheets, and he lay there, limp and moaning, and everything trembled when Loki came inside him.

He didn't move when Loki pulled back, shock from the pain still thrumming through his body, and he kept his face pressed down there as he waited for Loki to get up leave him; to let him recover just as he'd done since this had all started.

He wanted time, he needed time.

He wanted Loki out and gone.

"Get up." Loki ordered him, forever going against whatever it was Tony wanted the most.

Tony refused to move.

He was still shaking as everything stung and itched, throbbing from the inside out, and when he tried to unclasp his hands from around the sheets they'd fisted themselves into, they ached and stiffened.

Loki didn't wait for him to recover, didn't have the patience clearly, and he grabbed Tony by the waist; turning him over and around slowly.

"Get off me." Tony whispered, though he moaned when Loki kissed him again, twitched when fingers prodding at the skin between his legs and over his thighs, "Stop it. You're done. You're - you're fucking serviced. So just fuck off, now."

Loki looked down at him with almost no emotion at that, and Tony's answer was slipping four fingers into him in a harsh plunge that had Tony nearly sitting up in surprise.

"Oh, God, can't you just - fuck!"

The fingers thrusted four times, curving and scissoring while Tony whimpered and squirmed over the sheets, but when he did finally come, Loki's hand was there to catch it all.

It disappeared in an instant - Loki hadn't even moved his mouth, was his magic really that advanced? - and Tony tried to curl up in shame. He'd had enough, he'd completely had enough and he just wanted to sleep.

Sleep was good. Sleep would make it better.

He stiffened when Loki collapsed beside him on his back.

He bounced a little on the bed at the sudden weight thumping down near him, and he chanced a glance at him.

It was a little human, that movement of laying like that when you were tired, but before Tony could contemplate over that, an arm wrapped around him and yanked him back.

His back hit Loki's chest again and in a brief, fleeting moment of panic he thought Loki was going to start up again, before he'd even recovered - before -

But Loki didn't move.

He just lay there.

Tony blinked, staring at the wall opposite and his heart gave an irregular beat of fear when he caught sight of his own reflection.

Behind him, he could see Loki's head laying over the pillows, and when he tried to wriggle out from under the arm around him, it only tightened and he was forced to lay still.

Loki met his eyes in the mirror and, "Sleep." came the regular order, "Willingly, if you will, but if you do choose struggle, know that I will use force."

Blood speckled Tony's thighs as he looked himself over in the mirror.

"I'm down with willing." He said, still staring at his own bruised reflection.

Loki stretched beside him and the sheets were pulled out from beneath them by nothing - magic, again - and Loki draped them over them both.

"Good." He murmured softly, and promptly closed his eyes.

Tony swept his eyes over the room, already knowing from his recent explorations that there was nothing in here that he could use, and he knew that the front door was locked.

There was nothing he could do, and nowhere he could go.

The grandfather clock downstairs chimed, the sound echoing everywhere as Tony continued to stare into his reflection's eyes; still shaking from everything that had happened.

His throat constricted as he tried to swallow and he blinked back bitter tears that stung behind his lids.

At the last chime from the clock, he shut his eyes.


	7. Chapter 7

.

The stairs creaked under Tony's feet as he eased himself up them.

Loki had left again, left him bleeding and shivering on the bed and hadn't come back for almost five hours now. He'd really only, at first, just sat on the edge of the bed, trying to recollect himself but then he'd gotten restless and itchy with a sense of fear that he couldn't seem to shake off.

He'd picked at scabs and cuts, had gotten a cloth from the bathroom to clean away all the filth left over on his skin and while doing do, has realized that all he was doing was just reminding himself of the situation he was in. He'd left the room then instead, to again, try for escape.

Everything had been completely useless as usual and he'd spent the next almost-half-hour screaming at the walls and pounding his fists at anything within reach; shouting himself hoarse until all he wanted was to just collapse against the front door.

But now.

Now he was trying to make his way up the second flight of stairs in the house, up toward that strange door at the top.

He'd avoided it understandably, mostly because of the hanging corpse still dangling around up there, but he was here now and the door was just within reach. He didn't even have to turn around. He didn't have to look at the corpse, or move it out of the way or anything like that, it wasn't in his vision. He was fine.

Fine.

The door was as locked as it had been the other day and when he rammed his entire body weight into it, it didn't budge at all. He did it again and the result was obviously the same but he kept going anyway; ignoring the bruises he could feel forming over his bare skin.

It creaked under his blows though and, eventually, surprisingly really, when he shoved himself into it one more time, the middle section of it finally gave way completely; crumbling against him in bits of moldy wood and cobwebs.

He almost stumbled through it, coughing and waving the dust away with a hand, when the door swung open suddenly and he swallowed past the sudden dryness in his throat, before looking inside.

He hesitated.

_Please._

_Please, please, _please _let this be a way out._

He leant forward, poking his head around, looking through the open door.

He stared inside.

The corpse stared back.

Tony froze, his heart thudding, everything suddenly growing bitter cold, and he jerked his head around dizzyingly quickly to look behind him.

The rope was still there, still bloodied and frayed and covered with God-knew-what-else, but there was nothing else hanging inside, "Oh God," Every hair on the back of Tony's neck and his arms rose in salute to a new wave of fear filling him from top to bottom.

That's not possible. That's not -

There was a heavy footfall just behind him. And then another.

"Oh God."

This was a trick.

This was a trick of Loki's or something, something to keep him in line, something to make sure that he doesn't use this door as a means of escape or -

A cold hand clasped onto his shoulder, bare completely of skin and muscle, the bones digging into him until he cried out, turning to face it.

It had blue eyes, glazed over with cloudy ripples from the centre.

Blind, then.

Tony stared at it, swallowing and trying to take a step back but for what looked like a fragile set of bones, it's grip was fierce.

"Take it away," It rasped at him, blood and muck falling from it's open and ripped mouth. Tony watched in horror as it reached for his reactor, pulling him closer even when he struggled, "And what are you?"

He felt like he'd been stabbed. Gaped at it like he had been.

He stared at it, stared into it's too blue eyes, at it's darkened, dirty-blond hair.

It didn't look old anymore, didn't look rotten. The grey-washed out jumper merged into ripped uniform, the scaled blue now hard not to notice and the silver star hadn't eroded yet.

Tony reached out for him.

"... Steve?"

The corpse snarled, making Tony jerk back and when he then tried to pull away instead, it yanked the reactor clean out of his chest; bringing it's face closer to his. Grabbing him, pulling him away, dragging into a darkness that he'd only seen when Obadiah Stane had first tried to take what was -

"_No!_"

Tony's eyes flashed open.

His own reflection stared back at him, eyes wide and terrified, face flushed a dark pink that he knew wasn't there from any nightmare of his. He tried to control his breathing. Tried to calm down but he was still here. Still in this house. Still -

There was an arm around his waist and a rising chest behind his back.

Two fingers twitching and curving inside him.

"I - "

"Your heart has been beating faster than usual," Loki murmured low in his ear, pressing closer into him from behind and Tony found himself trying to lie as still as he could, looking at the mirror instead of what was happening behind him, "Has something frightened you?"

The fingers slid further into him, twisting around once before thrusting.

Tony squeezed his eyes shut, biting hard on his lips to repress any sounds that he wanted to let out at the sensation.

When Loki tightened his grip, he took the cue and shook his head quickly, "No." He bit his lip harder, "No, I'm fine, I'm just - nightmare." Loki shifted behind him, pulling him closer with the arm still tight around him, until he was pressed flush against Loki's bare chest.

Now that he'd woken, he noticed that the pain in his stomach had dulled into a thrumming ache but it was still more than a little uncomfortable, and he'd shift himself to ease it a little but the grip Loki had on him was less than gentle and he didn't want to think about what would happen if he tried to pull away.

The fingers in him thrusted again, slower than anything that Loki had done to him before that Tony almost tried to relax. But then they pressed harder, deeper, and he had to turn his face away to hide the darkening flush that rose into his cheeks.

Loki's breath was warm on the back of Tony's neck, enticing his next cycle on before it was even due and the teeth nipping at his skin didn't help either. Nor did the cock spreading a hot line of heat against his thigh ...

With a low groan, Loki decided to move from fingers to said cock, pressing against Tony fully now. Snapping his eyes up, Tony found his reflection again and remembered the blood on his thighs, the unhealed skin, the pain from last night.

He genuinely didn't mean for his elbow to slam into Loki's face but when it did, he didn't exactly regret his instinctual defense either.

Not even when he remembered what Loki could do to him when he was angry enough.

There was a beat of silence where Loki brushed a finger the cheek Tony had hit, blinking slowly at his own reflection in the mirror to meet Tony's gaze in it. Tony met it coolly, a little proud of his elbow-smashing.

"If you wish to change positions Stark," Loki said just as coolly in Tony's ear, before suddenly grabbing an ankle of his and pulling him backward, turning him onto his back - ignoring the hiss of pain that came from Tony - and leaning over him, "Then simply say so."

Tony took in nice and slow breath, pressing the aches in his body out of his mind and trying to focus on the patterns of the ceiling instead. But still.

Whenever he blinked, he could either see the imprint of the corpse's hands as they reached for him, could see the blue of Steve's dead eyes, or he could see Loki staring down at him, anger burning over his face.

He turned his own face away when Loki leant down to kiss him and then waited for the blow that would inevitably come afterward.

The bed creaked as Loki shifted over it and over Tony. The fur of the pillows itched at his face, tickling under his nose and he almost sneezed but his new found desire to stay deadly silent instead of luring Loki on with his reactions, forced it down.

The bed creaked again, much louder this time as Loki slid off of it.

Tony didn't move, didn't comment either - whether it would be aloud or in his head - at the unusual behavior because that would only cause him to get Loki to hurt him all over again.

And though that made more sense than Loki's sudden calm nature, he'd really rather not.

With his face turned into the pillows, Tony could see him out of the corner of his eye, walking across the floor toward one of the boxes in the cupboard. Waving a hand over one of them once, he turned from it and.

And just walked straight out of the door. Just like that.

He didn't look back, didn't say anything or threaten Tony, try to reinforce his rules by hurting him just that little bit more ...

5 seconds.

Tony waited, holding his breath, counting slowly in his head in a habit he'd taught himself when hiding under the bed from his dad, at around 6 years of age with a broken and expensive prototype in his hands.

18 seconds.

25 seconds.

He slowly sat up, wincing at the spikes of pain between his legs and at the bruises on his thighs and biceps, but the silk of the sheets were cool enough to be a little comfort for that.

There were no footsteps outside and though he hadn't heard the front door slam yet, he guessed that this was it. This was the part where Loki decided to leave him in the house and just go and -

And do whatever it is that he did out there? To go and destroy Tony's life? Now that he'd destroyed his body?

He _did_ own everything of Tony's, who's to say what he can and can't do with it all. No one, that's who. Not even Rhodey, who was Tony's goddamn safe-bet into a healthy Omega-Alpha relationship but now because of Loki, he'd no one.

He sighed, pulling his knees up into his chest and resting his forehead on them. The speckles of blood that had been on the sheets last night were gone, cleaned up by magic probably, but there were still the dried flakes over his legs.

So. Like in his dream, he eased himself off of the bed and began to make his way toward the bathroom in the next room. Walking past the one box that Loki had clearly done some magic-mumbo-jumbo to, he glanced down at it once out of pure curiosity and was surprised to see it full to the brim with clean, shimmering water.

"Um."

There was a blue cloth dangling over the side of it and the inside of the box was no longer soggy cardboard but had yellow-tinted plastic lining surrounding the water instead.

He blinked down at it, his stomach still rolling but now it was from either his heat, his hunger or his confusion as to _why_ exactly Loki had decided to -

The door opened.

The door opened and he spun around with a shout, one of his feet knocking against the box and sending water sloshing over his toes. In his mind's eye he could see the corpse standing in the doorway, Tony's reactor in both it's hands and the rope that it had hung itself on flying toward him, but taking a step back he blinked again and saw that it was Loki. _Loki_.

Loki who was supposed to have gone and to have left Tony in peace finally. Loki who hadn't even left in the first place.

Tony took another step back, away from him now, but he'd stood still for too long already in his surprise and.

And Loki caught him with only three long steps, grabbing him by the arm and literally marching him over to the bed, "Ow - ow, get _off_ - "

Tony wrenched his arm back when he could but then flinched when one of Loki's hands lifted in the line of his sight, relaxing only a little when it only pushed him down against the pillows. When it didn't hit him or plunge into him or try to arouse him.

When it didn't hurt him.

He sat there, a little stunned really, and watched as Loki lifted the water-filled box and lay it down beside him on the bed, "Warm or cold?"

Tony stared at him.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Loki sighed with irritation and lifted the cloth, lifting one of Tony's legs and ignoring how it stiffened when he did or how Tony tried to pull it away immediately.

He wiped a wet line down the dried blood there, cleaning it away.

Tony shivered, still staring at Loki - trying to decipher whether this was all a joke or not - but when the cloth neared his sore and swollen entrance, he instinctively reached out to stop it and Loki dropped the cloth into his hand gladly, to let him continue cleaning himself.

"Parody of care?" He couldn't help but ask, wiping between his legs and trying not to grimace. Loki didn't answer but the water was suddenly a lot colder than it had been before, making Tony shiver just that bit more, "When's the hurting going to start again then, huh?" His voice did not shake. Didn't. "Or are you tired from it all already, dickface?"

Okay. His voice was shaking. But it was mostly anger, not fear.

He was tired of being on the receiving end of assholes being "nice" before alternatively throwing it into his face just when he started to trust them. He didn't think he'd ever trust Loki but luring him into a false sense of security was exactly the kind of thing he'd expect from someone like him, and doing _this_ bit of "act of kindness" was exactly the sort of thing that started it all.

"Do you want me to hurt you?" Loki asked lightly, leaning back on the pillows on Tony's other side, watching him wipe at his other leg now.

"No." Tony answered him curtly, resolutely ignoring the hand stroking up and down his bare back.

"Then keep yourself quiet."

The cloth swiped over the inner side of Tony's thighs and he looked down then, focusing on the sharp stings of pain the dried blood brought when they caught his skin, rather than the forefinger tracing patterns over his spine.

He didn't respond. Why bother.

After a while, however, Loki straightened, snagging the cloth from Tony's hands before he'd even finished and vanishing the box before it could spill when Tony flinched over the sheets.

Frozen to the spot now, he waited for when Loki would push him down, would continue on from last night, build his cycle up again and fuck the resistance out of him but.

But Loki only waved a hand around again, dumped a blisteringly hot bowl of soup on Tony's knee and left it there to balance, leaving the room without even giving a spoon to eat it with.

Tony stared at it for fifteen whole minutes before flinging it at the door.

"_I'm not some kind of an animal of yours to just keep locked up like this, you fuck - !_"

.

.

The bowl didn't shatter. The soup didn't spill.

It rolled on it's side, ending with a clunk at the bedpost and he could see it, rippling and steaming hot around the blue china of the bowl and it was so impossibly intact that he was almost overcome with a need to investigate it.

However, hunger overcame him first and despite all the anger at being taken, fed and just left here like some kind of pet of Loki's, he crawled over to the edge of the bed and lifted the soup back into his lap.

It was still hot, boiling on his bare skin, and he set it down on a pillow instead, flicking his eyes over toward the door every so often in case Loki suddenly burst back in again.

His stomach was still cramping but when he blew over the soup, taking a long, slow sip from the bowl's rim, the pain of it gradually lessened; only soothing into a throbbing prod of pain instead of full-blown muscle cramps and spasms.

Symptom number one of an Alpha treating their Omega badly; stomach cramps.

With any luck, Loki may even get so bad with how he treated Tony that he may even get sick. And wouldn't that be pleasant.

The joys of puking while sweating through your heat. He took another sip, which reminded him -

Tony sat up from where he'd unconsciously leant back on the pillows, staring at one of the wooden posts on the bed.

One more cycle.

He had only the one more left. _One_.

Which meant, clearer heads, no more hormone-driven-kitten-weak-body, no more Loki trying to -

He stopped. He didn't know that for sure. Loki may continue this despite there being a heat cycle to conform with.

Breathing in quickly and quietly, Tony darted his eyes around the room before dumping the bowl carelessly down - it wouldn't spill anyway, who cared? - and rushing over to the door.

He winced at the pain between his legs as they rubbed together but he was still slick from his cycle yesterday and any friction that Loki had given him as punishment was slowly being faded away by it.

Still. A repeat of that kind of pain would be something that he'd probably try to avoid in the future. 'Probably', because maybe, _maybe_, he may not have a choice at some point.

Pulling the door open he let out a sigh of relief that it was unlocked and glanced past it, left and right, checking to see if Loki was in the corridor.

He wasn't.

Then, carefully, he eased himself out of the room and down the stairs.

Still no Loki.

Screaming at the top of his voice and there. No Loki opened a door to see what was going on. He was gone.

_Finally_.

But. Just in case, he checked everywhere in the house, every nook and cranny and -

He avoided the attic - for obvious reasons that he didn't really want to think about - and headed back to the bedroom when he decided the house was Loki-free for now, grabbing the bowl of soup with one hand and shoving it into the cupboard.

Going so far as to slam the door afterward.

Food delayed a heat cycle, gave an Omega enough sustenance to wait it out longer until they were ready for another bout, which was probably exactly the reason why Loki had given it to him.

To delay it until he was home again to push Tony through it all.

Well.

If Loki wasn't here, wasn't here _right now_, then there wasn't a need to delay it, was there? If he had his cycle without Loki then he could just -

Could. Could what?

He stopped, staring at his own hand clenching over the door's handle in a grip way too tight to be anything remotely near to his usual blasé and cooled self.

Before he'd been bonded - God, he'd never be used to that. That one word may once have meant something special to him once upon a time, but now. Now it was like something dirty, pressing into Tony's mind whenever he tried to forget about it - he'd always used toys or fingers, waiting until after his heat to fuck a no-strings Alpha or Beta when there was no risk of a claim.

He'd also had his tablets and his painless sleeping periods, snuggling into blankets with something up his ass to repress the shivering need of wanting to have something _more_ ...

But he had an Alpha now. An - Loki.

Fucking Loki. Murderous, dangerous, cruel and controlling Loki, who had a claim laid out over Tony's everything.

Fingers and toys would be nothing to him now. Not against the cramping or the shivers, the fevers. And certainly without his tablets.

Tony slid down to his knees, his back pressed to the door, closing his eyes, "Fuck." He groaned under his breath, his heart weighing heavy in his chest and he shut his eyes tighter.

Flashes of last night wouldn't stop replaying in his head, mixing in with his nightmare and with his interactions with Loki in previous times of his life.

In his tower, on the battlefield, or seeing him leave for Asgard whilst chained and restrained back, or turning around to see him standing and watching as Harrod fucked into him that stupid _stupid_ night that couldn't have been that long ago but it felt so -

A door slammed downstairs and he stiffened, tightening the hands he hadn't even known had clenched around his shoulders, hugging himself whilst he bit his lip hard enough to feel his heartbeat under his teeth.

"No," He squeezed his eyes shut tighter. He can't be back yet. He'd only just dumped the soup, he'd -

The door slammed again and this time, there were footsteps up the stairs. Padded and soft over the carpet but when the door to the bedroom opened, deliberately slowly, Tony still couldn't help the flutter of fear his heart gave when Loki stepped inside. Like he hadn't even been expecting him.

He hadn't bothered to stand yet and he didn't even bother looking up either at Loki either but he walked further in without invitation anyway. Course he did. Who was Tony to tell him what to do?

"You're back." He croaked, clearing his throat and shakily standing, one foot slipping out from under him but he caught himself in time and smiled at Loki, "Welcome home, honey." He then added, as sarcastically and as full of disgust as he could manage, but all Loki did in response was raise an amused eyebrow.

Walking past him, Tony headed toward the door, holding himself stiff and avoiding skin-contact when he neared the other man but he was grabbed by the wrist before he could leave anyway, making it all rather pointless really.

"The soup?" Loki inquired, pulling Tony closer.

Tony shoved at his chest but he wasn't let go, "You eat it." He spat, anger from before rising again and he clung to it. Anger was better than anything else Loki made him feel, "You weren't supposed to be back early."

Why did he say that? For God's sake, is he seriously out of his -

"Was I not?" Loki asked, voice soft and tone cold, "Then," He smiled leaning down as though he wanted to kiss Tony again, "Perhaps this is some awful nightmare of yours."

Those words again. What was his obsession with them, what -

Loki's breath was warm over his lips.

Tony turned his face away.

He really should have expected the tight hold on his chin that forced his head back around, made him stay there and stay still while Loki pressed his lips to his, coaxed his own open and slipped a tongue inside.

His own response was to mentally shut down until Loki stopped but that didn't work out well because suddenly there were hands under his legs and he was suddenly lifted into Loki's arms again.

_Just like last night, God ..._

Unable to stop his own reflexes, he grabbed onto Loki's shoulders, unintentionally pressing their lips harder together and Loki staggered a step as a result; his back hitting the wall beside the door, which was when Tony remembered yesterday more vividly, remembered the knife in Loki's back.

One knife hadn't worked. Maybe a bigger one? He'd feel better pumping Loki full of bullets but right now, he should probably stick to being realistic. Knives could work. Maybe. Maybe if he edited them, made them sharper, bigger, harder.

But how? Loki'd magicked everything in the house. Down to every statue and -

Loki pressed into him slowly, using a hold on Tony's hips to tug him all the rest of the way down until Tony couldn't help but keen into his mouth.

Jesus, jesus. He'd not eaten because he'd wanted to take care of himself when his cycle finally came but now.

God. This wasn't even his cycle yet. It was just Loki being too impatient to wait.

Loki pulled away from his lips when a flush spread from Tony's neck through to his cheeks, brightening his eyes and dulling them all at the same time, showing that he was running out of air.

Sucking in a deep breath, it turned out to merge into a cry when Loki thrusted into him now, leaning against the wall and pulling Tony down by his hips. In retaliation, Tony bent his head at the neck and bit into Loki's shoulder.

It hurt him. More than it hurt Loki likely, and all it did was make his teeth ache.

So instead, out of ideas, he instead just shut his eyes and turned away.

"If you continue to struggle and rebel Stark, you will only make all this worse on yourself," Loki murmured in his ear, walking them away from the wall, still thrusting into Tony like that was all he was there for, and laying him out on the bed; making Tony wrap his legs around to rest on his back while he pushed in all the more harder.

"If you let me go live my - live my life outside of here, I won't struggle," Tony countered breathlessly, his skin now burning and there. There was his cycle. Coming up early because his Alpha couldn't wait a little while longer. To let him recover, "What difference would it make, I mean - You'd still be, effectively, ruining my life. Just - I'd just be that little bit more happier if I could _live_ while you did it."

Loki slowed his thrusts, bracketing Tony's head with his arms, "Mm." Was his deeply thought out reply.

"Does that mean so little to you? That you have to keep even that from me?" Tony tried again, tried to convince him, gritting his teeth when Loki's cock rammed in harder now. He didn't receive any sort of response, vague or not and that spiked the last bit of anger in him, "What because you're a miserable little dick you can't - !" Loki's hands tightened over his skin.

And there was all the murderous intent again. Both his and Loki's. Great.

He'd barely recovered from last night.

Loki stopped, though, which wasn't what Tony expected so he braced for an attack.

He stayed buried in him, though - of course he did, Loki didn't have a conscience, he'd start up again in a minute and force more screams from Tony's mouth when he didn't "obey" - but when Tony's legs slipped off of him slowly, he reached forward and grabbed a pillow, shoving it over Tony's face.

It wasn't smothering, wasn't suffocating just yet, but the feeling of it pressing over his head made every single vein in his body run ice cold.

"N - !" His arms were batted away and Loki pressed into him further.

"I only want your body Stark," Loki snarled over him and even without seeing him, Tony could tell that his teeth were bared, but. But everything was too muffled like this. His face was hidden, he was breathing in fur, and all Loki would have to do is press down just a little harder, just a little longer and Tony would - "I don't need the face."

Thrusting into him again, the pillow was pressed down and Tony screamed now, behind the fur, sucking in great gulps of air when the pressure was finally lifted only for fear to take over again when it was pressed down harder the next time.

Loki kept up a rota, choosing when and how long to press the pillow down over Tony's mouth, not letting him see what was happening, terrifying him with the possibility of being smothered to death and only letting him _feel_ what was -

Loki grabbed at his thighs, holding his legs up and spread wide with only the one arm, and when his hand skimmed over the pillow one more time, Tony actually sobbed behind it.

Loud and wretched.

"_Don't - !_"

Anger had no part anymore and he was more scared of struggling than of the sex, now that there was the threat of his oxygen being taken from him completely. Until his body gave out.

It was a horrible way to die. An awful, horrible, nightmarish way to die and he'd know. Since Afghanistan it was all he'd ever dreamt of. Drowning or suffocating or being buried alive or -

Or being strangled by corpses.

Loki stopped.

Every limb of Tony's was shaking and despite having let out a half-screamed sob, the tears clogging his throat had yet to sting in the whites of his eyes. The pillow wasn't pressing down on him anymore and there were hands moving from his legs to his arms, moving them from where they'd unconsciously tangled in the sheets, unclenching the fists that had caught bits of silk inside.

Loki had stopped.

Tony wasn't sticky.

There wasn't anything between his thighs, there wasn't any blood or - or come. Loki was still hard, he could feel it against him, he could -

The bed shifted.

Tony went completely still. He went still and he hated himself for it.

Fear was one of the only emotions that he hated with a passion and that was only because it made him react to situations with so much transparency that everyone that wanted to could use it against him.

Howard had used it, Stane had used it, Fury, Natasha, Loki ...

All of them.

Fear was his weakness. It controlled half his life, and hiding it away always brought it back tenfold. He couldn't get rid of it so he disguised it but here. Here with Loki. Used, abused, unmasked.

He was an open fucking book.

The bed shifted again and still, Tony hadn't moved. There was the sound of padded footsteps. Loki didn't start up again, didn't grab him, drag him to the edge of the bed and sling his legs over his shoulders or -

The door shut with a click.

13 seconds.

28 seconds.

29 seconds.

It didn't open again.

54 ... seconds.

.

.

Tony slowly sat up, letting the pillow fall off of his face to land on the floor. He stared down at himself.

There were bruises on his thighs, adding to the ones from the previous days but they weren't as bad as they could have been. Loki had barely gotten halfway.

He'd just - stopped.

Footsteps downstairs, however, indicated that he was still in the house, still wandering around down there but he wasn't coming anywhere near the stairs as far as Tony could tell. Wasn't bringing some new or horrible torture device up here to finish the job.

Tony couldn't get a proper breath in and he had to physically restrain his hands from flapping in panic.

The ache from his cycle was building now, almost there due to Loki's impatience but he'd time still. Loki had stopped. The cycle would die down now until his body was ready. He could -

There was the sound of something smashing downstairs.

Tony curled into a ball on the bed, staring at the ceiling as he slowly slid down until he could rest his head on the pillows behind him.

His throat felt sore from all the screaming, his eyes stinging with the tears now.

He threw the rest of the pillows onto the floor, laying back without them and stretching his legs out under the blankets.

His plans for bigger and sharper knives ran through his head once again but he discarded it with a heavy heart. What was the point? Loki had a short temper. Tony had already ignited it twice now and doing so again may very well end up with him lying here dead.

Blinking slowly, he lay there, aching and shaking, shivering from the cold until he snuggled further into the silk to try and find warmth. Sleep was one of the only things that dulled the pain of heat, other than an Alpha's comfort, and already knowing that he'd be wasting his time trying to escape, he saw no other, or no better, thing to do right now.

And not for the first time, he wished - no he _prayed_ - that there were people out there trying to help him. Because in here, locked away. He'd got nothing.

He was - effectively - helpless.

"God. You're an asshole."

He shut his eyes.

Midday rolled by and Tony still slept on. The blankets had bunched around him and tears had clung to his eyelashes but hadn't fallen.

Dead to the world, he missed that the door opened. And he missed the hand that lay on his brow.

He also missed the blankets being pulled down and another body climbing in beside him. Missed the arm wrapping around him, the breath on his back.

Missed how a thumb gently swiped over his bottom lip while his Alpha sat there, watching him sleep, wiping tears from what had happened away.

.


	8. Chapter 8

Tony screamed out in his sleep. Out loud, terror-filled - long.

Another dream, another nightmare, it wasn't real, it wasn't -

No -

The pillow was pressed over his face.

No, not again, not again, NO -

Get _off_ -

The pillow wouldn't shift off of him, not like it did last night, not like it did after Loki - after he -

And right now, right now he couldn't even see, he couldn't - he was _suffocating_ and he couldn't even -

He couldn't breathe. He couldn't think, he - he was -

_Please_ -

Loki's hands bracketed his face, pressing the pillow down, holding it over his face, keeping his mouth held wide open against the fur and dust as he was _thrusted_ into so hard that his entire body actually shook from the strength of it.

Oh God -

Please, please, _stop_ -

I can't take much more of this.

Loki growled above him, lost in his own pleasure or, even, in some sadistic fantasy of his, his arms bulging beside Tony's head and - if he looked just a little to the side he could see them there - could see them keeping him in place, with the elbows locked down too tight. To push the pillow down over him when he struggled - to cut off his -

_Stop_ - !

Words were whispered into his ears, repeated in a shout when he didn't respond immediately besides sobbing under the fucking pillow, "Do you understand?"

Understand? Understand what, he didn't -

"You are here to be used Stark. To only be used, do you understand?" The pillow wrenched off of him and he sucked in a breath of relief, just as hands were tangled painfully tight into his hair and tugged his face up - made him cry out and wail, "No - "

"That is _all_ you are here for, Stark. All. Is that clear enough for you?"

This is a dream, a dream. Just a dream.

Wake up.

Tony felt bile burning in his throat, "I don't - " There was rushing in his ears, drowning everything out.

Wake up -

"That you are to be used by me, by _only_ me, and that all you are here for is for me to use. And nothing else. _Nothing_." Tony's moans hitched higher at a sharper thrust, his legs rising to instinctually try and get himself away from the pain that he was experiencing, "Do you _understand_ that, Stark?" Tony choked against the hands on his throat, screamed when Loki drove himself deeper inside him.

Fucking wake up!

"Wait - !"

"_Do you understand_?"

"I - "

"Tell me you understand, Stark. Tell me and I'll stop."

Please -

Please, I don't know, I don't know, I can't understand you, I -

Loki began to thrust again, knocking Tony's head back into the headboard, making his forehead spike with both pain and with a weird kind of numbness that he knew came from some sort of wound forming around there.

"Tell me."

"I can't brea - "

"_Tell_ me!"

He was crying again, he couldn't help it, Loki was right in his face - he couldn't see anything _but_ Loki, couldn't breathe past his fear or past the lack that he had of oxygen from the pillow just _smothering_ him -

He was - "I can't - I can't breathe ... _please_ - "

Loki snarled above him, clearly not liking his answer, and the pillow was again shoved over his face. Tony screamed under it - pride shot completely out of the window.

He screamed until he couldn't even hear himself anymore, until he couldn't even make out the blurriness of his own darkening vision and couldn't get a lung-full of breath into his body quickly enough.

When -

_Please_ -

When he -

he can't -

He can't breathe -

.

.

Tony awoke silently. And. Compared to the screams that he'd had whilst sleeping, he figured that maybe his throat had probably had enough. Just like him.

His body had tensed as he slowly came to, stiffening up with that kind of horrible wash of cold that always tended to happen whenever he dreamt of either dying or falling. Or, in this case ... rape.

He was shaking.

His legs had automatically kicked out in panic after waking and - as he tried to catch his breath to remind himself that he was alive, that he was okay, that he was not currently being smothered and/or killed in bed - he slowly froze in a dawning sense of horror when he suddenly felt soft fingers dancing across his ankles.

No -

He didn't look up for what felt like an age, staring down at his bare arm instead and biting down hard at his bottom lip to try to keep himself quiet when those fingers began to rise just a little higher over his skin.

Their touch was a little light, almost ticklish. Gentle? Could he say that?

No. No he couldn't. Manipulative was more like it.

Loki didn't say anything at all while he lazily touched Tony. _Touched_ him. Like he was just there for him, like he was there just to be touched.

His skin crawled in more than discomfort whilst he waited.

Wait -

Waited for something to happen.

But nothing did.

He almost counted down again, almost tried to convince himself that it'd all be okay if he just shut his eyes and pretended that this wasn't all happening to him.

But then, what in the hell would that even do? Other than fill him up with some more disappointment and fear when his situation was just slapped back into his face afterward.

So. Okay. Might as well ... address it now, then.

Easy.

He just has to look up. Look up. Come on.

Gradually. Slowly - so fucking _cowardly_ slowly - he curled his body in and eased himself up and around to look down at his shaking legs.

The sheets had bunched by his feet in his sleep - nightmare - and were now fluttering around in some sort of magically-artificial-breeze over his bare skin, stroking down his calf and ankles in a touch so similar to fingers that - wow.

He'd actually frozen in fear - for over _five minutes_ - because of a fucking blanket.

God, what was wrong with him. Only a few days locked up here and he was already becoming that little frightened omega that Loki wanted so badly. One that would gladly just stay here and live to obey him.

Pushing himself up with his hands, he winced at the thrum of aching pain over his back and stomach, rubbing a hand over a slightly purpling bruise that was slowly forming over his thigh; he gave it a short prod with a finger, running a hand through his hair and down his face and sighing.

Another nightmare. Another that ended with his death and with him being unable to breathe. Suffocation.

He half wanted to think about that, to even go as far as to wonder whether or not it meant that something "smothering" was on the horizon for him or something, but after what had happened to him yesterday, he'd actually rather just sit here and think about sunshine and rainbows and the Avengers or -

There was the slam of a door downstairs and he tensed right up all over again. How much time had passed since he'd fallen asleep before? He used to have a pretty good body-clock, before, but now - ?

Another door slammed.

A set of footsteps.

Fuck.

It literally took every ounce of Tony's strength to _not_ just fly off of the bed and dive straight into the cupboard by the corner - to hide.

Hiding hadn't worked out so well for him last time, had it. And Loki would just get pissed at him for trying.

So he sat still, instead, digging his nails into his palms and breathing in and out in short, sharp breaths before realizing just what he was doing and trying to slow everything down.

For all he knew, Loki could be some kind of vampire or something as well, with advanced hearing or whatever, and could hear his heartbeat rising.

He might even be making the bastard _happy_ about that - knowing that Tony was 'finally' genuinely scared of him now, just like he probably wanted - or might even be making him aroused. Though. With his new, and un-wanted, 'experience' of it now - That didn't exactly seem like it was something incredibly difficult to do anyway.

Loki seemed to just get aroused at the drop of a hat. Or at the drop of Tony. On the bed.

Jesus.

He was hyperventilating again. God.

And the worst part of that was, in his panic-mode some stupid section of his brain was trying to convince him that _this_ was all just a nightmarish dream as well. And that he'd wake up soon, and that he'd wake up alone for once, and in the tower, and that his tablets would be tucked beside him for a just-in-case moment; ready and waiting for his heat cycle that had not yet _started_ -

Stop it.

Delusional thinking was just as bad as crying, and he'd yet to find a moment in his life when he'd actually been proud of breaking down into tears. It, also, was just as bad as hoping or wishing that something bad would just go away all on it's own.

The door croaked when a hand was placed over it. The floorboards outside it creaking along with it as well, and if Tony sucked in a sharper gasp again, he'd probably choke on his own breath -

The handle clicked down. The door slowly eased itself open, and Tony found himself shuffling backward over the bed, his hands fisting into and over the sheets and mattress now, instead of letting his nails cut into his own skin.

Loki stepped inside after a long pause that had pretty much almost made Tony self-destruct from the sheer friction of how vigorously he was trembling. He chewed hard on the inside of his cheek, tasting the slight tang of blood when he broke the skin there - willing himself just to stop. To stop showing such outward signs of how this was all affecting him.

But every time - his thought process just veered him back toward the less-than pleasant memories of last night and, even, from the night before. From the pillows and the blood and Loki above him just -

"Here." Tony snapped his head up, staring as Loki sat on the edge of the bed, laying down two china plates before him over the sheets. One was completely full of fruit, mostly common ones though the majority seemed to be mangoes, and the second was smaller and empty of anything but a simple kitchen knife.

Right.

"I'm not hungry." Tony immediately said, ignoring every single voice that screamed at him to shut up, because if this was like the soup from before then he'd be damned if he -

"I did not _ask_, if you were," Loki said idly, not even looking at him and just plucking out from the pile one of the smaller mangoes, slicing the knife around it slowly and creating a spiral of peelings that he just carelessly let drop to the floor. Tony watched, only slightly fascinated, as they straightened themselves above the wood and vanished just after hitting it. Magic = no mess, no tidying, no dying from disease, "Now eat."

"No."

Loki cut into the mango itself now, laying piece by piece of it onto the empty plate beside him, "Don't try my patience Stark."

Don't talk to me like I'm a child you sanctimonious -

"_Eat_."

Tony didn't reply, as much as he wanted to, but nor did he move. Loki continued to cut, reaching out for an orange now and discarding the knife to separate the slices with his own fingers.

Delaying his cycle with food, with 'sustenance', would mean that Loki would likely try to force his way into Tony's very last cycle - from this heat - and take away from him some more later. Which, at least, gave him a little time to try to recover, he guessed but -

But. Not eating at all would mean that his cycle would come _now_ instead, and he was really, really sure that that wasn't exactly the best idea right now. Jesus, Jesus, what did he do?

Loki's hands were slowing, meaning that he was either preparing to throw the knife or to hit Tony. Or both. But whatever it was, it was clear that he wanted Tony to eat. And to not obey meant ...

Despite hating him, despite hating that he now had to play by Loki's fucking rules and to _obey_, and to have to have _his_ own cycle when and wherever _Loki_ wanted him to -

He leant forward and reached for a bit of mango.

His skin prickled ridiculously self-consciously when Loki's eyes moved over to watch him as he ate, but he swept the feeling away, relaying everything that he'd grown accustomed into doing with the press and focusing on the fruit in his hands instead of the psychopath sitting before him.

The only other time that he'd ever actually had a mango in his life, had been when he'd been around fifteen and that had only been because he and his family had gone to India for some business thing of his dad's - he hadn't really cared to remember what it was at the time - and the refreshments had included bottles of ice-cold coke and mango pieces.

It was a nice memory, actually, which was surprising. For him. His mother had taught him how to curl half a mango up by the skin and to cut the pieces into little squares - hedgehog mangoes, she'd called them.

He almost smiled.

It was his luck, he guessed, that the next time he ate something that made him just that little bit happier, would be in a situation like this. He reached for a bit of pineapple next, instead, ignoring the mango this time with a sigh, but Loki's hand darted out before he could move it back. And it clasped his wrist tight.

Tony's breath caught in his throat but he didn't dare tug his arm away.

Without a word, Loki slowly moved the hand in his grip, squeezing it in warning when Tony looked like he was going to move away, until it was over a mango slice instead. He dropped it, making Tony's fingers automatically fall around the fruit in question, "If you would rather not be so transparent with what you're thinking, I'd advise you to not let your emotions flit over your face like that."

Tony swallowed. Just a few days. A _few_ days and the asshole could already read him like a book.

He didn't say anything in reply. But he didn't take the mango either.

He wouldn't put it past Loki to go all crazy on him again and maybe even force it down his throat, but suddenly, his pride was rearing in fury. Which was surprising, really, seeing as it had stayed quiet for him since that incident with the knife before, but here is was, and so he sat back and watched instead. Watched as Loki moved from the oranges and pineapples to bananas and apples.

The empty plate began to pile up now, and Loki nudged it toward him pointedly when the bananas were at the top of the pile.

"Eat." He commanded again, and though the iciness of his tone had melted just a little, the order was still obvious.

Eat. Or I'll make you.

And, for some reason, the immediate response that came to Tony's mind was, "I'm allergic to bananas." Okay.

Loki's hands paused and he looked up at him. "_What_?"

Um. Anger was vibrating from Loki again and Tony shifted backward as subtly as he could. The hand that dug into his bare knee gave him the hint that he was still being obvious, no matter what he did.

"What?" He countered then, defensively, stiffening at the chill down his spine from Loki's sudden anger, "I wasn't insulting you, or anything, I was - I - I'm allergic to them. I can't eat them. Bananas."

Stop talking, stop talking. You're giving him information, you're giving him more methods to use. Who knows what he'll do the next time he gets pissed at you, he'll force you to eat one or something, or maybe -

"Explain."

Tony bristled, feeling his heart rate spike in both fear and anger - despite his attempts at desperately trying to keep it down - and he slowly slipped his legs under the blankets, trying to cover himself as best he could.

Loki didn't stop him.

Tony could feel himself shaking again, in an expectation of something awful about to happen to him, and from the proximity - the hand that had fallen off of his knee when he'd moved it, the look in Loki's eyes and the way that Tony couldn't even make himself look away. He'd seen how fast Loki can move. Looking away might just give him the second that he needs to do in order to do something.

"Explain - what? I'm allergic, that's - that's all there is." His thighs were cramping, he needed to stretch his legs out but Loki was sitting right there and putting his ankles within reach would - "Do you … even know what that means?"

Loki's face tightened. Walking on thin ice.

"I - if I eat them then, I - basically I get these symptoms. Like an illness, in a - a way. But only if I eat bananas. Or squid." He'd found that out in a dinner with the board of directors once. They hadn't stopped mentioning it to each other in jokes and comments for months afterward, laughing among each other while Tony had been puking his guts out in the nearest bathroom. He still wasn't sure if it had actually _been_ an allergic reaction or if he just hadn't liked it. Or both. But,well, as Pepper had said to him, 'better to be on the safe side'. "I get a rash from it, a painful one. And my eyes - sometimes - swell up. Depends how much I've eaten."

Loki's face had gone from angry to bored in less than a few seconds and he still looked at Tony as though waiting for him to get to the point.

"It's nothing deadly." He found himself saying, trying to make sure that Loki wouldn't think about using this against him, "It's all over after a while."

"Then eat." Was Loki's response, and he pushed the plate further, "And throw it toward the door, like you did before with the soup, and I'll make sure that the only meal you _ever_ eat here will only be bananas."

And there we go.

"Or Squid." Tony added, without thinking, before digging his nails into his hips hard under the blankets and mentally beating himself to a pulp.

Loki sat up a little straighter in front of him, lifting the other plate up and standing. The knife was still left on the bed. He turned, narrowing his eyes and smirking, "Well, then," He huffed out a laugh at Tony's comment, "Do you find this all amusing, Stark?"

Fuck you.

"No," Tony grit his teeth. And then. "Do _you_?"

Loki's smile grew, "Do I find the sight of you screaming and crying beneath me," Tony pressed his lips together, "Or even, shaking in fear opposite me, amusing?" He rolled his shoulders, his eyes visibly focusing on how Tony was holding himself now. Stiff, curled up and frozen, "Of course. What is there to _not_ like?"

Tony's heart was up again and he could practically imagine himself glancing down and even, strangely, seeing his chest rise and fall in time with his pulse.

"Especially as I have the promise of being able to see it all over again, much later on." Tony's breath stuttered and he glanced down, staring at the plate and hating himself, "You've another cycle, I believe. Don't you?" Yes, "And afterward, well. You may not be able to ready yourself biologically but I don't see why we can't continue this even without your heat."

And there was his answer. The answer to the question that he'd had running through his mind since this had all started. Whether or not it'll stop after his heat, or not.

And, no. No it won't.

He can't do this.

He shut his eyes.

"It would be a shame, however, I think. Without your heat, it may be harder, and," Loki was laughing, taunting him, and it was working, "And there'll not even be a way for me to impregnate you, would there, without your body - " And that was the last straw. Tony's eyes flashed open and, though he mostly felt sick to the stomach at that thought, he lunged forward. And. Without even thinking or pitifully wallowing in the sheer shock of that statement, he wrapped his fingers around the handle and grabbed the knife.

Loki paused, looking at him with the beginning of the scowl, "Do you not ever learn from your mistakes, Stark?"

Tony glared, viciously thinking about how everyone hoped that looks could kill and fucking actually _wishing_ that that were the case right now. For him, at least. There were several people in the world that he wouldn't want to give that power to. Loki being one of them.

"I think that we've already discovered what happens, specifically to _you_, whenever you wield a knife at me." Tony's hand clenched over the handle and he could hear himself breathing now - too loud, too fast, "Put it down, Stark."

Don't listen.

"We both know that you can't hurt me. Not as my Omega, and not with that puny little thing."

"Yeah - well, It's not for you." Tony found himself saying, numb and shaking. Situations and thoughts and scenarios ran through his mind and he could suddenly see himself lying bleeding on the floor and left behind when Loki finally got bored of him, or could see himself being locked away in this room for centuries, or - heavy with a _baby_ - God. Panicked, tired and actually pretty terrified of what the future might hold for him by this point, his mouth did what it usually did whenever he felt like this. It ran on automatic and said the last thing that anyone ever expected, "It's for me."

There was a little pause after he spoke - emphasizing 'little' - where he and Loki just sort of looked at each other in confusion about what Tony had just said.

And then Tony was following through with the implication, scrambling backward over the sheets and bracing the knife's point against his chest - just below the arc reactor, just near his actual heart. Ready. Waiting.

Loki had moved with him, the plate discarded on the bed, the left-over fruits tumbling off of it and being squashed under his boots as he stepped forward.

Tony held the knife firm, held it tight, braced his arm to -

"Stark," Loki didn't even sound wary. He didn't even think that Tony would, "Give me the knife." Don't you dare, "_Now_."

Tony blinked at the tone, feeling every nerve in his body ache and strain at it, and he felt his hands slipping.

Alpha. His Alpha. Loki was using that to - No. No, no. If this was what made Loki actually _try_ to be his Alpha, then he's not stopping it. No way.

"I can't live like this." And, God, he was actually telling the truth, wasn't he, he was actually considering this. When had this - had he even _thought_ about this? But wait. That wasn't what you do with this kind of thing, was it? You don't think, you react.

You - you react.

He swallowed again, his throat becoming increasingly dry and constricted. Too tight to swallow a second time.

So here he was. His first reaction. Suicide.

Oh, what the hell was he doing.

"Yes, but if you use that, you won't live at all." Loki growled, stepping closer again. Tony shifted backward, feeling himself stray toward the other side of the bed and he dropped a foot down onto the ground - still keeping the knife at his chest. He wouldn't do it, or maybe he would, he didn't know.

But he _can't_ live like a -

"What do you care?" He spat out, darkly, icily, wincing when stepping backward shot pain between his legs and he reflexively jerked his arm back, cutting into his chest just a little. A drop of blood slid down his skin and Loki's eyes were a little similar to slits when he met them again.

And then. Suddenly. They were all that he could see.

Loki lifted a foot onto the bed and literally propelled himself forward from his stance, his arms grabbing a hold of both of Tony's and using that grip to throw him hard onto his back, into the middle of the bed. Tony's head hit the mattress and he choked on a pained yell, blinking hard past the dizziness that that sort of movement always prompted, and struggling against the grip that Loki still had on him.

His fingers were being bent backward, the knife being taken away from him.

"No!"

Loki straddled him, the knife cutting into his hand from where Tony twisted it to try and drive him away, and he still pulled at Tony's fingers until he was sure that they'd break at any second.

Tony turned onto his side, kicking Loki as hard as he could manage to in the stomach and crying out at a backhand that sent him rolling the rest of the way off of the bed. They fell together and Loki succeeded in wrenching the knife away from him and tossing it far across the room.

Tony crawled backward, his eyes widening - his only defense, only weapon -

Gone.

Loki's hand curled around his thigh and dragged him down across the floorboards until he was fully under him again - Tony landed a single punch before he was hit in turn and subdued enough to let it happen. His head was then bracketed by arms, his legs pinned down by Loki's - deja vu.

No, no, no!

"Do you ever actually _think_, at all?" Loki panted above him, out of breath surprisingly, or maybe even fucking aroused as per usual. He had gotten that way, before, "Your team, your company - " What? Is he seriously - "You would leave that to rui - "

"Oh, it's _gone_ already!" Tony shouted, refusing to back down. Not even when Loki's jaw visibly clenched just a few centimeters away from him. Kissing distance. Oh God. Oh _God_. "You've got it all, _remember_. I mean - how could you even fucking forget, you've taunted me about it repeatedly." Huh. Guess he had actually thought about this then. Jesus, he'd considered - "Everything I own, everything I _was_, it's all yours now." He stopped, breathing heavily, "So it - so it's all gone anyway."

He hadn't anything anymore.

Loki shut his eyes above him in irritation, for just a second, before continuing on in that same low, and thrumming tone.

Alpha.

"And so your solution, then, is to murder yourself."

"What do you _care_ -" Tony snarled, clenching his hands into fists and grimacing when they were then pinned down as well by Loki's elbows, "You're going to kill me anyway, I might as well go out _my_ way." Loki raised an eyebrow, "You said so before. You said. You - when I get a little older, you're killing me. I'm not - I can't spend the rest of my life stuck here. Locked away knowing that one day, one day you're just going to get bored and then - "

"Then don't bore me." Loki said lightly, casually. As blunt as he always was but with what he _said_ -

"God are you - " He tried to curl his legs in but Loki was completely immovable above him, "You - I just - " He stopped. What could he do, what _should_ he -

Loki shifted above him and Tony could smell it now, could feel it even. He was hard.

Tony slumped beneath him, letting his head loll in defeat, "Look, if you're going to fuck me, just - get it over with." Loki leant closer, "I mean you're obviously going to - this, this _has_ been your favorite position, so far." Loki's breath fanned over his mouth. Tony looked away, "Look, we're even on the floor as well. Wow. What a - what a coincidence." Stop talking, stop _talking_.

"Your cycle is not here yet." Loki bit out.

Tony's eyes flashed, "And you. Don't. CARE."

Loki's fingers tightened around his wrists and Tony bit his lips past the keen that threatened to arise, "No."

No _what_ you fucking -

"Then what are you _waiting_ for."

"Continue to _test_ me, and I will hurt you."

"Well if you're not going to do anything to me right now, then get the fuck off of me and get out."

Loki leant forward, leant closer, his eyes so dark with anger now that the green in them didn't even look like anything more than a memory, "I refuse to leave here, if only to return with you lying here dead."

"Why?" Tony sneered, "Afraid that you're gonna lose your little fucking toy?" Loki slapped him across the face. Tony tasted blood for a second time today and that blow was what actually awoke him to just what he was doing. He was - Jesus.

Baiting on an Alpha, _his_ Alpha, after everything that had happened to him. Baiting him to do it all over again - What -

"I'm gon'a kick your ass when I get outta here." He was slurring. Concussion?

"No," Loki growled, his hands wrapping around Tony's neck, "Because. As I have said to you so many times now, you will _never_ be leaving here Stark."

Tony shut his eyes, turning his face away, "Then - kill me." The hands tightened and he choked, "You don't - need me. Whatever you're doing out there, you - I'm just for fun. Aren't I." He was just for fun, he wasn't anything important. He was just a _side-effect_. Nothing more, nothing - Loki grabbed him by the chin and forced him back around, "Kill me."

"No."

"Why _not_?"

Loki lifted a fist to hit him, glaring down into Tony's eyes and he flinched before it even struck him, "Please."

Loki's expression was thunderous, the only thing that would have made the picture so much more darker than it already was would be genuine lightning flashing in the background. Whilst Loki braced to beat Tony into a pulp.

"_Kill_ me."

He didn't want to die.

He didn't.

But he didn't want to live like this, either.

Loki's fist came down. Tony cried out, flinching, and squeezing his eyes shut on instinct. But then, when the pain didn't even come from the strike, he slowly cracked them open again. Loki's face was incredibly close to his now, his nose brushing against Tony's as he panted above him - Raspy. Harsh. Pained, even. Maybe.

His fist was also buried in the floorboard just beside Tony's ear.

Tony stared at him.

"You talk again." Loki threatened. "You say _anything_ again, and - " Tony's eyes darted between both of Loki's, unable to look anywhere else but, and even if he wanted to, he couldn't think of a single thing to say.

Wood cracked beside him as Loki slowly pulled out his fist and, in the aftermath of the shock, Tony felt himself calming down gradually. And with him, so did Loki.

Pheromones. Omega was calm, Alpha was calm.

It didn't always work like that, of course, but -

Loki's face suddenly contorted from whatever it was that he was thinking and he barked out a shout of anger, his fist slamming against the bed this time and breaking one of the wooden legs that supported it. Tony's entire body flinched at the sound and he tried to edge away again.

Loki's hand was bleeding.

He was still glaring into Tony's eyes.

"The next time," He hissed out, his voice nothing like it usually was, and it sounded almost like _he_ was the one that had been strangled during their fight, and not Tony, "You ask me to kill you." He pushed himself up off of the floor, "I'll make you beg for it, instead. I'll make you see how death can be a gift."

It was a promise.

Not a threat.

"You're crazy." Tony whispered, "You're fucking crazy."

"No." Loki disagreed, ignoring the blood on his hand, "Merely cruel." He left the room silently, taking everything that he'd brought in with him, and leaving only the plate of cut fruit behind. And Tony. Tony who was still left lying on the floor, amidst broken wood and blood from his own split lip and Loki's open wound.

And then.

Then.

As though actually driving a horrible little - fucking _metaphoric_ knife into everything, his skin slowly began to itch and heat up. Crawl with a need that could only be claimed by one thing.

His cycle.


End file.
